Footsoldiers
by StormyNight55
Summary: I have lost my titles, my gym, my city, and my pokemon. The only thing left for me is to find him. - Palletshipping. -
1. Prologue

Am I starting a new story while I have several on hold? Yes. Did I start this because I needed a writing release while all those story's plots are suffering giant blockages in my head? Yes. Did it spiral into something more that now occupies 50+ pages in my Word program? Yes. Do I have ANY regrets? Nope.

Also, you will find this story often combines elements of the anime/manga/game-verse worlds that Pokemon has. Some parts of the game-verse are borrowed, while other parts of the plot might follow anime-verse, and so on. It's a bit of a cluster-fuck that way, but I think it flows, so hey, give it a shot.

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**

Keep holding out for me on my other stories folks. I swear. Their days will come.

* * *

I haven't heard from my rival in nearly twelve years.

Not a text, not a phone call, not a single letter or email. Nothing giving me even the slightest clue as to where he might be.

He left behind friends and family, people who cared about him - people who had made sacrifices for his dream.

He left behind me.

Considering the others he abandoned, I am of the least importance. I'm sure he thinks of me the least, if he thinks of any of us. But if I'm going to be talked into the start of this search, I'm going to be the one who finishes it.

How about I give you some background on how we got to where we are?

Alright.

Sixteen years ago, unbeknownst to anyone living outside the region, an organization had formed and was on the verge of gaining more control than should have ever been allowed. But their leader Cyrus was cleverly gaining leverage in the cities, slowly erecting buildings across the land, masquerading as a research organization and receiving generous donations from the poor saps he was fooling. It wasn't until Champion Cynthia was assassinated and Cyrus entirely overthrew control of the Sinnoh region that any of the civilians noticed that something was certainly not right about this group - but it was far too late then.

We had no idea anything like this was going on.

Across the world in Kanto, life was going on as usual. I was fifteen years old and still collecting my badges, training to take on the League. _He_ was elsewhere in the region and up to the same task. Just like now, I had no idea where he was. But I didn't give a ratatta's ass back then. All that mattered was that he was behind me and I was beating him. No one had the slightest clue that something had happened nations apart from us that would completely change where our lives were headed.

The next year he brought down some criminal organization called Rocket. I read about it in the papers, but I didn't think much of it. So what he was making the news? I had been making the news since I was a preteen. I was an Oak, little Pallet Town's only hope for notoriety! Like some little news stunt could overshadow me. Yeah right. Everyone gets their fifteen minutes of fame and he was running his dry before we had even made it to the League. Though I do remember hearing how the leader had turned out to be the respected Viridian Gym leader, Giovanni Sartori. It was a giant scandal. So the fact that the gym, since he did defeat its leader and shut down his career for good, got left to a sixteen year old boy kind of got overshadowed. But he didn't even_ take_ it. No. He left it to some other guy. I don't know exactly how that part of the story goes. I wasn't there, and at the time, not much of my attention was focused on him.

Three years afterwards, the setting was the Indigo League Championships. I was there, and I knew he was there, but I hadn't gotten the chance to meet up with him just yet. I had a few jibes prepared for when I did lay eyes on him, just to make sure he didn't get too confident thinking he could win or anything, especially not with me there. Ha. So as the tournament rolled on, the contestants started dropping like flies. It was nearing the Elite rounds, what all the spectators were really waiting for. I lost to Lorelei - those Elites really pack a punch that a first-timer isn't expecting. I was really blown away by how powerful they were, but I wasn't too discouraged. I had beaten every 'average' trainer I had been pitted against. Only the Elites had managed to faze me. I felt that clearly this put me in their caliber, above just any old 'trainer' title. Gritting my teeth I watched his matches, avoiding actual contact with him lest I have to admit to his face that he had made it slightly farther than me. I didn't understand how he was doing it. How had he made it this far on his first try? He couldn't_ really_ be about to succeed where I had failed. I was balling my fists and kept my face glued to the screen for his final match,_ thee_ final match - he was going up against Lance.

Lance, the Dragon Master. The Blackthorn-born hero. An honored member of the Dragon Clan. He nearly seemed like a god to some. He led Kanto and had been doing so since I was a kid. So I can understand why what happened might have. But back then it was just more fuel to the fire, being a little punk with not much more than fame and success on his mind.

Ash Ketchum went up against Lance in front of all of Kanto. Who didn't have their eyes glued to the final match of the Indigo League Championships? I was on the edge of my seat, trying to convince myself that I didn't need to hope that he would lose - that he wasn't that good, he couldn't beat Lance, that I had nothing to fear. Which it turns out, I didn't.

He choked.

I never spent much time seeing him fight anyone but me, but he had never choked with me, and I had assumed he didn't do it with anyone else either. But this was Lance, The Dragon God. The first pokemon Lance threw, his gyarados, he actually had an advantage over. But he was stumbling over his attacks and freezing up so badly that his pikachu didn't have a chance. The rest of his pokemon fell the same way. Lance never even switched out his gyarados.

Inside and out, I was leaping for joy. My rival hadn't won, which meant it wasn't over for me. Of _course_ it wasn't. I was Gary Oak, born to be the greatest, but more importantly, born to be better than Ash Ketchum. So I did the only appropriate next step for any rival, and that was that I sought him out to gloat. Yeah, I had been knocked out of the competition before he had, but I certainly hadn't lost in an embarrassing display like that. I felt that he needed a quick reminder that I was still better, in case there were any lingering doubts in his mind.

But when I found him, he didn't seem himself.

Sure, he had just suffered a giant and humiliating loss, but shit happens. So when he didn't even bat an eye at my jeers, I crossed my arms.

"What the hell is up with you? Yeah, you just lost to Lance, but the guy's a Dragon Master. He's been leading the region since your mom was wiping your ass for you! Feeling pissy because you choked, Ashy-boy?"

He didn't say a word, he just turned and left. I called out shit until I couldn't see him anymore, laughing until my sides felt like they were going to split, and it sure made me feel better about my loss.

Maybe I would have backed off a little bit, if I'd known that would be the last time I'd see him.

Over the next year I got reoccurring calls from Gramps, Mrs. Ketchum, and even his fiancé called me herself once to ask where he was. Like I knew? We were rivals, not brothers - how the hell was I supposed to know where he had crawled off to?

I didn't think anything of it. I figured that he had slinked off to lick his wounds somewhere and hopefully train a little more so that next time he wasn't such an embarrassment to our hometown. I figured he would show up eventually. In fact, I was sure of it.

It didn't really hit me that he might not turn up at all until the next Indigo League Championships that I attended, and won, without seeing his face or hearing his name a single time.

The Dragon Master Lance fell before me, Gary Oak. I became the next Kanto Champion. Everything fell to me; fame, glory, money, respect. The whole works. At twenty-four it's easy to get swept up in something so much bigger than you - except you don't see that it's bigger than you. You think that it _is_ you. That the hype is because you are the greatest, the best, the undefeated, and not just something that comes to any Champion. I started developing my own titles just like Lance had. I heard of dozens of them. Pallet's Prodigy. Oak the Undefeated. Young Hero.

That last one was one of the most ridiculous. I'd never done a heroic thing a day in my life. Beating the Champion wasn't an act of heroism, he had been a great leader, it wasn't like I'd taken down some tyrant. But all his responsibility fell down on my shoulders, and it's the part of the job that you don't think about until it hits you. I planned on my reign as Champion being all about the interviews, the television appearances, the autographs. When shit hit the fan and the Elite turned to me, their supposed leader, I generally scoffed and rolled my eyes. I didn't want to deal with their shit. Twenty-four isn't so old and wise, to anyone lucky enough to be younger than that. Chances are you're still going to be acting like a child at every chance you get, and I was a spoiled one.

At the root of my unbecoming behavior was my general unhappiness with my position. Surprise you to hear that? I figured it might. Gary Oak, unhappy with being the champion of Kanto? Yes, exactly - bitterly, resentfully unhappy with it.

What was the point? Why was I bothering to lead a nation if he wasn't in it? Why was I bothering to have such a powerful position if I couldn't wield it in his face? I was the best, the greatest, and where the hell was he? Oh, right - nobody could tell me the answer to that because he had_ dropped off the grid_ five years earlier.

So it took me five years to truly feel the effects of losing my rival. I'll admit that makes me a total selfish dick, but what can I say? I didn't have bigger problems than a missing childhood rival, but I felt like I did. My priorities were askew.

My behavior still wasn't, perhaps….morally correct, since my spare thoughts about Ash were rooted in my anger that he was not there to witness how great I was. It was still all about me. I didn't think twice that he might be dead, or injured, or anything like that. Those thoughts never even crossed my mind. Just that he wasn't there, and I was, and I wanted him to be there and bask in how much a loser he was compared to me. He was taking away from my win.

It wasn't until a year later that I did anything about these feelings. On my twenty-fifth birthday I received a letter. It was pretty traditional for a League Champion. I was getting used to giant packages or face-to-face delivered messages. You'd be surprised how many miles a person is willing to walk to speak with you when you're the Champion.

_Gary Samuel Oak,_

_Quite some years ago I inherited this gym from a boy who I can only presume is a friend of yours. He allowed me the ownership of this gym with a single catch - upon this date I would turn over its guardianship to you. I could hardly suspect that you would be the Champion of Kanto by this time! Attached is the legal document that when signed, will bind you as Viridian City's gym leader and the guardian of the earth badge, should you desire it. Accept at your leisure._

At the bottom his name was scrawled. I'll keep it to myself for his privacy, but then again, it's not too hard to look up who owned the gym during those years.

I remember my hands shaking as I held up the contract and read it over a few times. My grip on the paper kept tightening until I had bent it out of shape completely. In the next minute I had tossed the document to the gold-tiled floor and was tearing the hand-written letter to shreds. Tears were squeezing from my eyes as if it were as difficult for them to fall as it was for me to admit that they were. In one sweeping motion I cleared my desk of everything, including numerous plaques of awards and recognitions that I didn't care to spare a thought to, every item clattering to the floor noisily. I reached into my pocket, pulled out a pen, and scrawled my signature across the dotted line.

You're probably wondering why this was such a big deal. There were a couple reasons why I reacted like I did. First of all, I was offended. I was pissed that he had the gall to grant me anything, like Gary Oak needed his chump charity. _He_ was the poor village kid. Gramps had practically been bathing me in money since before I could walk. I was humiliated because if I accepted the offer, which I just had, the truth might get out that I had been essentially handed the gym. I hadn't fought for it or earned it in any way, but now I owned one because once-upon-a-time I had a rival, and he had gyms to just _give_ away! I was offended that he had prepared a little back-up plan, as if over all these years I would have just been dicking around with no direction, as if I wouldn't have accomplished anything for myself. I was the Champion and the letter only confirmed my worst fear - he had no idea.

Most of all, one reason reigned over all of these. I was relieved.

No, that's not the word. Elated.

Yeah. I was sick of being the Champion, to put it bluntly. In my eyes, the title wasn't accomplishing anything for me, and the letter only confirmed it. My rival wasn't there, he didn't know of anything of what I had done over the past few years. What was the point of holding the top spot? There were other Champion titles to earn - Johto, Hoenn, Unova, the Orange Islands…and I was going to settle for just one until somebody better came along and actually presented me with a fight I couldn't win? Ha. The odds of that happening were slim, so I knew exactly what I needed to do. I had to get out of the Elite system and run a gym. Take occasional trips abroad and win a couple badges over in wherever. Come back and shoot a few more young hopefuls down while guarding the earth badge. Run a city instead of an entire nation. Plus, it was only a few miles out from home through the Viridian Forest, which…was starting to sound kind of nice, honestly.

I knew what I was going to do, but I had to appeal to the Elite Four first. I had to let them know I was stepping down. To tell you the truth, they took it hard. There aren't many Champions who have voluntarily stepped down, but I can also tell you that my grandfather is one of them. Maybe it's an Oak trait, to need a constant sense of achievement. My sense of that had died when the challenges had stopped and I had reached the top. My grandfather used to tell me that he had stepped down to become a pokemon researcher, because research is a challenge that never ends - there's always more to learn. Or so he says.

Lorelei seemed disappointed, as if she were looking at a completely different person than the young man who had come back years later after his first loss. But I didn't feel any different, and I knew my choice was the right one. Bruno looked offended, but didn't say much. Whatever. I always thought he was full of it anyway. Agatha was flat out angry, and she told me exactly what she thought of me for making that decision, and even brought out a couple jabs at Gramps - apparently she was so old that she was in the Elite when_ he_ had made Champion. I told her exactly where to stick it. Lance had the best reaction of all.

He offered me a snide smirk, a handshake, and told me that he would_ love_ to have his title back.

I packed up my stuff and headed out the next day. I had all my things sent by mail and rode Dodrio to Viridian so that I could get there faster. It felt amazing. Freeing. You can't imagine what they try to take away from you once you're Champion. Riding through the country on your dodrio is fine, but you'd better bring a fleet of assassin-trained League pokemon with you - what if some terrorist is hiding in the woods waiting to catch you off guard?

The gym was completely empty, but the city sure wasn't. It's kind of a big deal when a Champion steps down to become a gym leader, so naturally the entire story made the news. The city was in uproar with excitement that their gym leader was going to be a former Champion. There was a celebration and journalists and the works, which I was perfectly comfortable with. Just because I had stepped down from my position didn't mean I didn't enjoy the spotlight, in fact, it was the only part of the Champion title I had genuinely enjoyed.

Over the next few months I settled in. I was hiring gym cronies and spending a lot more time out and about with my pokemon. I mapped out a general path I wanted to take myself, starting with Johto and possibly ending in Unova. I had scrawled Sinnoh off my list, because they had closed down their League Championships. These would have to be taken in small spurts, since I was leading a gym and all.

Things took an unfortunate turn then.

Cinnabar Island has long been home to an active volcano, but it hadn't erupted in hundreds of years. In that time a rather successful city had been established at its base - which was entirely destroyed when the volcano decided to erupt for the first time since civilization had been established there. Refugees came pouring in, every city near enough to assist was doing their best. People were taking in complete strangers who were now homeless until more houses could be built, and the entire island was roped off as illegal due to safety concerns. The man who had been running Cinnabar's gym for years didn't make it. I fought him for one of my own badges. You might say it was a really uniting time for the nation, except that in this moment of distraction, that certain organization from Sinnoh swept down on Kanto.

It was nothing big at first. Nobody knew about it, of course. Team Galactic, so they called themselves in Sinnoh, set up a refugee assistance base in Pewter - a giant one, in fact. One might wonder where they had gotten all this money. But nobody did, because they were under the guise of good Samaritans and frankly, Kanto was looking for heroes. I'm sure Brock feels a certain amount of guilt for allowing them in, but how was he supposed to know that they weren't actually looking out for the common good?

So over the next year almost all of the Cinnabar natives moved into Galactic's giant complex in Pewter. The population boom made Pewter even more economically powerful, so this was in general good news all around for the city. I was a little pissed that everyone had up and moved from Viridian to Pewter, but I still had all my locals. Whatever. Let them leave if they didn't appreciate us.

So that's where it really all began. It kind of makes you wonder that if Cinnabar hadn't blown up, would any of this have happened to Kanto in the first place? Over the proceeding five years, Galactic erected a building in nearby Vermillion, and then later in Saffron, and later in Lavender. Soon they bought out the Pokemon Tower in Lavender for what appeared to be no other reason than a show of economic strength. They appealed to Pewter and offered payment for control of the Pewter Museum of Science, but when they were rejected, they bought out Fuchsia City when Koga moved up into the Elite Four. That's where they gained their leverage - before Fuchsia's new gym leader could even get her footing, Galactic goons had swept in and shut down the Safari Zone. Next, they banned pokemon possession inside the city and made short work of anyone's pokeballs. The PokeMart was banned from selling items that could aid in the capture of wild pokemon. Galactic Police roamed the streets and stripped everyone in town of their pokemon, shipping them who knows where. All of this occurred in the span of a few weeks, and their gym leader, Koga's daughter Janine, was left reeling in a position of absolutely no power without any pokemon left to speak of. I haven't spoken to her personally, but I've heard she was taken into custody under the suspicion that her father and the rest of the League might find out what had happened in Fuchsia if she spoke with him unsupervised.

Galactic had access to all the money that the entire nation of Sinnoh held, though nobody in Kanto knew it. So when they purchased the deed to Celadon's Department Store and other major buildings, everyone began to get a little suspicious as to where all this money was coming from. Certainly anonymous donations hadn't been enough to get a kind group of do-gooders this well-off. Lavender Town was an obvious next, seeing as they already owned a large portion of it and all that remained was to take the pokemon of the people living there and instate the ridiculous "no possession" laws. Cities couldn't continue to fall like this without the League or other cities noticing, which probably prompted Galactic's next course of action.

Lorelei went down first. The Elite were far too powerful to take on alone, and any Galactic with a brain knew that. It was poison, and the toxin was formulated from a plant grown only in Johto. With the League and media's attention suddenly on terrorism, Galactic could continue overthrowing small towns and cities and keep them in the dark about it.

Agatha was next, but it was believed to be of natural causes. Nonetheless Johto was given the blame. The people began to hear from Lance less and less, though he would occasionally appear to reassure the nation that all was well. Bruno might as well have vanished. Cities started dropping like flies - Celadon Gym went up in flames, burning most of the pokemon inside to death and a few of the people. It was framed as an accident and Galactic offered to pay for the rebuilding, with of course the minor catch that they would be instating their Galactic Police force in Celadon. Saffron on the other hand was holding firm, and after a public announcement that this sort of action would_ not_ be taken in _their_ city, Galactic Police raided homes the next day. Gym leader Sabrina was nowhere to be found during this incident, but roughly a week later she popped back up on the radar, without a pokemon in sight and no explanations for anyone.

So how did they get Viridian with me there? Ha…I wish I had that kind of confidence in me anymore. When things like this happen, that rock your entire foundation, you realize that you really are only made of flesh and blood. That a former Champion title doesn't make you invincible.

"Gary? Stay where you are. I'm alright. The lab's gone up in flames, but I'm working on getting the pokemon and everyone else to safety. I'll give you another call in a few hours. Don't panic."

How the hell was I supposed to stay put at a voicemail like that?

Maybe if I had stayed where I was, nothing would have happened to Viridian. But that's probably not true. I took my team and raced to Pallet as quickly as Dodrio could manage, but just as the Elite used to warn me of, somebody _was_ actually waiting for me in the Viridian Forest. I couldn't tell you to this day who it was, but Dodrio froze suddenly, and I felt the swift passing of a bullet miss me by a few inches at best.

It wasn't even someone just _shooting_ at me. It was a sniper.

It went downhill from there. Whoever it was, that Galactic had a good eye, and they didn't miss twice. But they weren't shooting for me. Dodrio went down hard, and I went sprawling across the shrubbery and clamored to my feet. The giant bird's three beaks were all cracked open slightly, each pair of eyes still open. Whoever it was had known what they were doing when it came to killing a dodrio. You couldn't shoot one in the head. If you did, it still had two working brains in the other two. But all three heads reach down to a shared heart. You had to put a bullet there to really stop it cold.

I had been raising that dodrio for what seemed like forever. I distinctly remember catching him as a doduo and he had been a staple in my team ever since. But I didn't have time to mourn the loss just yet, because as far as I knew somebody was still hoping to take home my hide from that forest. I ran the rest of the way to Pallet and didn't dare call out any more of my pokemon, fearing for their lives just as much as I feared for my own.

Because of the ambush, it took me much longer to reach Pallet than anticipated. By the time I arrived the damage was done, and Galactic Police were swarming the town. They weren't letting anyone in or out, and that included me, despite any fancy titles I had taken my entire life to cultivate. With guns held to my head, they emptied out my pockets and robbed me of everything I had, including my remaining pokemon.

"Hey!" I nearly jumped out of my skin when they tried to pocket half a pokeball from me. "What the hell are you doing? Give that back, it's not even a full pokeball!"

"We have orders to confiscate all pokeballs."

"It's not even a working one, dipshit!" I cried indignantly. The urgency I felt to have it back in my possession was intense. "It's half a goddamn pokeball, just let me have it!"

They did. They didn't even ask what relevance it had, which was good for me, because I certainly wasn't sure. _He_ had given it to me a long time ago…and somewhere in the world, he hopefully still held the other half. It wasn't much, but it was a strange symbol that I still had a rival out there, and proof that once he actually had existed.

Blastoise, Nidoking, Kingler, and Arcanine, gone. My staple team. The pokemon I had relied on since I had captured them each individually. I couldn't be sure about the state of my stored pokemon, since they had been living at Gramp's lab; which was now a massive charred wreck of a building and crawling with Galactics. It all happened faster than I could process. The Galactic Police guarding the entrance to town turned me around and shoved me down back the path I had come from. I stood in complete awe for a moment. I had no pokemon. I had come all this way to help my grandfather and I couldn't even get in to see him. I had no pokemon. I was being forced back the way I had come, _me_, Gary Oak. I had no pokemon. I would now have to walk all the way through the forest and back to the city I was supposed to be guarding.

I had no pokemon.

There wasn't a damn thing I could do about any of it.

It was the loneliest walk of my life.

There was one little light at the end of the tunnel, or better put, forest. I had a small spark of hope left for me if I could just make it back.

It felt like I had gone back in time. I remembered trekking through Viridian Forest for the first time with only my starter at my side and truly realizing that it could be a terrifying place. Now I was back in that mindset, which I hadn't truly had to appreciate in years. With no pokemon, not even a barely trained starter to protect me, no weapons, and no supplies, the forest was looking more daunting than facing the Elites had looked.

Somehow I made it through. Mostly it was due to knowing my way through the forest and having a rudimentary knowledge of things that could be eaten safely - and avoiding pokemon, big and small alike, whether they posed a threat or not. Small things are still eaten by bigger things, and bigger things can eat you.

When I made my way into the city, I expected to see it how I had left it. I had only been gone a few days. But I had been being watched, and someone had capitalized on my absence.

Three guesses who. Go on.

Viridian was crawling with Galactic Police. They checked me for pokemon and seemed pleased to find that I had none. One informed me that my gym had already been searched and cleared, and I was welcome to return home to it. My heart raced.

I ran to the gym. I called out completely uninhibited, damning to hell anyone that might hear me. My palms sweated as I waited.

Then I heard it.

Pushing out from under a plank of wood in the floor crawled Umbreon.

I had never in my life been so happy and relieved to see her. I swept her up in my arms before remembering the situation we were in and demanded she show me where she had hidden. She led me to a loose floor plank, under which she had dug a hole just barely large enough to hide herself if she curled into a ball. Her fur was dirty and matted from her constant digging and hiding, but I hardly noticed. The fact that she had been so ingenious floored me, and even better, gave me an idea.

For the next few days I kept Umbreon as hidden as I could. Eventually I had dug the hole deep enough so that she could hide in it and dig while I simultaneously dug with a shovel. I had to loosen a few more planks to make the entrance big enough for me to fit in, but we managed to make it look subtle. It wasn't a very generous-sized room, tall enough that I could stand bent over a little, and wide enough that I could lay across the floor and feel only slightly cramped. I started moving things down there, like a small table and chair so I didn't have to sit on the dirt floor. I even threw a rug down so Umbreon wasn't always lying in the dirt. She seemed to understand that something I couldn't control was happening, but I wasn't sure if she knew what had happened to the other pokemon. I tried explaining that they had been taken, but she kept nudging at my belt, as if urging me to let them out soon. It was nearly impossible to get a shelf into the dirt walls, so I just kept building bookshelves and stocking them with my things and survival supplies. Mostly just food and water, and stuff I didn't want to lose. The pokeball half sat atop one shelf and wrapped inside a shirt. The shirt was meaningless, but I always had a paranoid fear that the place was going to be uncovered soon, and I didn't want them thinking the pokeball half had some kind of untold relevance and making off with it. Before long I had an entire secret base arranged for myself, and though it has remained hidden from Galactic forces, I have yet to see my pokemon since that day, and Team Galactic now runs Kanto with the same iron fist that they used to bend Sinnoh to their will.

Twelve years ago my rival disappeared. I have lost my titles, my gym, my city, and my pokemon. The only thing left for me is to find him.


	2. Viridian Forest

I'm planning on updating this story consistently. Whoa, imagine that! But really. I have it set that a new update will occur each Wednesday. With a consistent goal like that, I feel like I'll have much better luck than, "oh, I'll update whenever I get this next chapter done". Seeing as I already have six chapters down, you guys can look forward to at least that long of consistent updating!

**Disclaimer: Nope, still don't own Pokemon.**

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The room was poorly lit, and a collection of knick knacks appeared to be its only contents. A raggedy bookshelf with assorted trinkets, with various newspaper clippings tacked into the wood. At the end table, a man was reading a newspaper clipping by candlelight, an umbreon sleeping at his feet. The creature's sleek black fur rose with every breath. The man stopped reading for a moment and stared off with a confused look before pulling a vibrating device from his pocket. The small cell phone was a constant reminder that he no longer carried a pokedex, the mark of a trainer. Those of course had been confiscated years ago. Training was banned.

"Hello?" He answered carefully. The number had been unidentifiable. He was always hesitant to answer those.

"Gary Oak?"

The feminine voice didn't ring a bell. He felt a growing apprehension that this woman knew exactly who he was and yet he could not identify her.

"Who is this?"

"Misty. Misty Waterflower? Remember me?"

Gary could have dropped the phone for how surprised he was. How many years had it been since he had heard from Misty? At least eleven. And even in all his years of knowing who she was, she had never called him but one time. He desperately hoped she wasn't about to ask about_ that_ again.

"I got your grandfather's message."

Gary cursed quietly. Of course. What an insensitive old bastard his grandfather was becoming. A few days prior Samuel Oak had left his grandson a message that if he ever hoped for change, he needed to find his old rival. Yeah, right. Good joke. His rival had ditched them all years ago and with the unfortunate turn of events that Galactic had brought upon the nation, Gary had grown bitterly resentful about it. It didn't make much logical sense - if Ash had been around he would merely have wound up in the same position that Gary found himself in. Nonetheless he deleted the message and chose to nurture the anger he felt that Ash Ketchum was probably off in some far away land, enjoying the leisurely life with all of his pokemon, whereas he was hiding in a dirt-walled room with the last of his.

"Are you…" Misty didn't wait for an answer before she continued, and for this Gary was glad. He didn't exactly have one. "I don't know. What did you say to him?"

"Nothing." He put it simply. "I deleted it."

"Brock thinks we should go."

Another person Gary hardly knew. These were friends of Ash's, not him. He didn't know Misty particularly well, but from what he did know he was surprised that he was having this conversation with her. She sounded as if she were considering the senior Oak's suggestion.

"And _you_ think so?"

He let the skepticism rule his voice. Twelve years ago his rival had been engaged to the redhead. Gary didn't know much about engagement, but he was pretty sure it didn't include running out on your fiancé and never even dropping her a line.

There was silence on the other end. It was like he had spoken all of his thoughts silently with that single question. He would have perhaps felt a little sympathy for the woman if he knew her, but instead he rolled his eyes. That was twelve years ago. Wasn't she over it by now?

After all, he was over his old rivalry.

Really. He _was_.

"I don't know." She kept it simple as well. "I don't think anything will come of it, but if we can do something to help the nation, we have a responsibility to try."

So that's what it came down to. Responsibility. Brock Harrison, Misty Waterflower and Gary Oak - all gym leaders. They had duties to their cities to protect them and so far, they had been unable to. Misty felt compelled to do what she could for the sake of her city.

Or at least that is what she dared admit to him.

"So what are you going to do?" He asked. "Go to Pallet?"

"Maybe." She answered. "I can get from here to Pewter, and meet up with Brock. Then we can meet up with you in Viridian, if you're interested in coming with us."

"Why did you bother asking me?"

He was genuinely curious. Misty and Brock were old friends. He had no connection with them other than the missing link Ash Ketchum. What was the point of involving him on a mission like this?

"What do you mean?"

"You and Brock…it makes sense," he went on, "you've been friends for a long time. Why ask me to go?"

"I haven't seen Brock in years." She admitted. The line went silent for a moment. "I'm asking you because if we do find something, I imagined you'd like to be there."

Something. By that of course, she meant Ash. Would he like to be there? What would he do? What would he even say?

"Whatever you want. Give me a call if you show up."

He hung up abruptly. He wanted to pretend he wasn't sure what had brought back his classic sour attitude all of a sudden, but he did know. The notion that for the first time in years people were speaking about Ash as if he were alive again and were actively going to try and find him was a terrifying one.

It is a strange process, when someone you know very well leaves you. You go through a period of sadness or denial. Gary had done that. He had ignored any sadness in favor of denial, completely convinced that Ash Ketchum would be coming back, unsure why everyone else around him seemed to be losing it. Then there is the anger, when it suddenly hits you that this person isn't kidding, isn't lying - that this situation is very real. Gary remembered ripping up that letter as tears rolled down his face. Finally you fade into bitterness - you pretend that person never existed to you, and every mention of them brings out the worst in you as you wonder why everyone else just can't let it go like you have.

But you haven't.

He hardly left his hideout shelter the following few days. He couldn't sleep, and empty mugs dirtied by steaming black coffee began to pile up around him. Umbreon looked on with concern, rubbing her head and spine along his legs in a cat-like fashion whenever he stood. He had no desire to interact with anyone outside of his hideaway and listened for visitors walking above the ceiling. As far as he could tell, nobody but his gym employees graced the building for the following time. He remembered how once long ago he had hired them for their individual skills as trainers, all of them hopeful with the thought that maybe Gary would leave the gym to them someday. At the very least the job they held looked great on a resume. But those times had long passed, and the ones who had remained faithful to the gym now took up humble positions as janitors or handymen.

After about a week of waiting, Gary admitted to himself that Misty Waterflower was not going to show up at his door. He also admitted to himself that he had been waiting for her to do so. Perhaps even hoping that she would. He forced himself to emerge from his lair and resume business as usual, making very few excuses as his employees were used to him simply vanishing for days at a time. They assumed he had some peaceful getaway in the nearby woods or something. Ha, like he would risk a shelter in the Viridian Forest without his pokemon to protect him. Besides, that would mean leaving Umbreon out there to fend for herself - which she was very capable of doing, but he didn't like the idea of her being so far. Of course, no one knew she was there, and God-forbid anyone find out. Just like no one knew that when he disappeared, he was merely hiding under the floorboards they stood on.

The hideout was great for eavesdropping, a pleasant bonus that he had discovered shortly after he finished constructing it. He knew countless bits and pieces of gossip about his employees and the other people around the city that he knew they certainly didn't want him knowing. His head employee Charlie had gotten an STD from his ex-girlfriend a few months back. The poor guy had come into the seemingly empty gym to make the phone call to his local doctor. Gary had to admit he liked the sense of power that the knowledge he gained from living under the floor gave him, but he rarely used the information against anyone. Years back he might have sneered at the young worker, but now he actually felt a little bad for him.

It was when Gary had resigned himself to the fact that she was not going to make an appearance that she finally did. Just a tad under two weeks from their phone call, Misty Waterflower showed up at the Viridian Gym door.

"Misty."

He wasn't sure what to say to her, but he didn't hide his obvious curiosity at her appearance. Last time he had seen Misty in passing she had been just barely twenty. Her hair was no longer in its traditional side ponytail look that he was used to recognizing her in, but instead cut to frame her face with swooping bangs. She was wearing a pair of flexible black pants and tennis shoes, with tank top and a pale blue zip-up jacket, fitted tightly to her frame. Her face had few wrinkles to speak of - they were still young, or so Gary liked to tell himself. But it still somehow appeared older. She hadn't looked nearly as worn or tired last time he had laid eyes on her at the Indigo League Championships.

"You didn't think we would show up."

We. It was then that Gary noticed who the redheaded woman was accompanied by. The man stood taller than she did and perhaps an inch or two taller than Gary himself. He wore dark green cargo pants whose every pocket was clearly stocked with supplies, disregarding the backpacks both newcomers carried. His tennis shoes matched the light brown long-sleeved he wore. He too had the same air about him as Misty - aged, but despite the few wrinkles Brock did sport it was not so much physically as mentally. It was almost like an aura they gave off. Gary wondered if they could see it in him, too.

"No." He admitted before he beckoned them inside. You could never be too sure who was watching, and a gathering of three gym leaders might illicit a visit from the Galactic Police just to ensure nothing fishy was amok. He contemplated for a few minutes where they could have the conversation he was sure they would come to. Could he trust them to keep his hideout and his umbreon a secret?

He decided he would probably have to.

"This way," he instructed, making sure the coast was completely clear before kicking up the floorboards and ushering them in. They looked slightly confused and surprised, but their expressions doubled when they spotted the sleek black and yellow creature perched upon the end table, licking remnants of coffee from the few dozen of empty mugs. Instantly the umbreon's tail stuck straight out behind her and her ears pinned back, letting out a very threatening hiss.

"Relax," Gary ordered, and she hesitantly ceased her noisemaking as he closed the floorboards now above them. "And get down from the table."

He couldn't blame Umbreon for her brashness. She had been conditioned over the years to take any human presence other than his as an immediate threat.

"Don't mind her," he dismissed as she hopped down from the table. "If I had more chairs down here I'd offer you a seat, but you can see I'm a bit short."

Misty insisted they would be fine standing. He remained so as well for sheer politeness, though he was still very cautious about the entire arrangement. Misty and Brock were staring at Umbreon as if they hadn't seen a tame pokemon in years, and outside of Galactic control, it was very possible that they hadn't.

"We're going to make our way to Pallet Town to meet with Professor Oak," Brock began, taking out a canteen and bringing it to his lips. Gary felt a twinge of discomfort that he had all the empty dishes he did just lying around. "We're going to decide what to do from there."

"You're welcome to come with us if you want," Misty added.

There was something strange that Gary sensed between the two. The week or so of travelling together didn't seem to have done much to diffuse the tension that could come with not seeing a person for years on end. He didn't feel like he would do much to take away from the awkwardness in the group, but that wasn't his concern. Did he want to go with them? If he did, how would he make sure Galactic didn't note his absence from his city?

"How did you leave?" He asked. "Galactic Police are going to notice if no one is running the gym while I'm gone."

_'While',_ he mentally cursed, _why didn't I say 'if'?_

Perhaps his conscious was more on board with the idea than he felt.

"I left Cerulean Gym to my sister," Misty explained. Gary hadn't realized the redhead even had a sister.

"My fiancé is looking after it while I'm gone," Brock offered. "Plus there's my younger brother to help out."

Fiancé? What the hell? Gary did his best to pretend these thoughts weren't rushing through his head. It was hard to picture his rival's old friends as people who had gone on living their lives for these past years. Brock had to be nearly thirty-five - of course it wasn't strange that he had a fiancé. But it was still something that made Gary truly realize how much time had really gone by.

"I don't have anyone to leave the gym to."

It felt strange saying that. Misty had a sister, Brock had a fiancé and a brother. Gary couldn't remember the last time he had felt like making anyone his fiance - in fact he was sure he had never felt like that. He had his sister May, but he hadn't talked to her in a while, and he certainly wasn't going to leave his gym or his city under her control. He didn't really have many options but one.

"I'll talk to my employees."

Misty and Brock looked skeptical, but he didn't have any other choice. The next morning he let Charlie know that he would be taking a short leave of absence and gave him his phone number to contact him if anything worth mentioning happened.

They left during the night.

Gary felt the most nerve-wracked when Umbreon snuck out of the base for the first time in years. She seemed elated as she slinked out into the moonlight and dashed into the forest with killer speed, and he felt a growing lump of guilt forming in his gut that he hadn't been able to allow his starter the chance to prowl at night like she so loved in so long. When she vanished into the trees with orders to follow them but keep a safe distance, he felt better about her safety. He was sure she could take care of herself against the natural dangers of the Viridian Forest. It was human risks that he worried about.

The first night they were all on edge. They made a fire just long enough for Brock to prepare them a quick meal, but snuffed it out shortly afterwards. All three were aware of the bug pokemon that the light in the darkness would very likely attract. In regards to wild pokemon, Misty appointed herself sentry through most of the next day.

"God, I always hated coming through here." She had a tight grip on her arms, leaving pale fingerprints on her skin. "Bug pokemon paradise. Couldn't we have come some other way? We could have taken a boat into Pallet, there's that little river that spills out into the ocean –"

Brock seemed to find her behavior particularly funny. Whatever the reason, Gary was glad for it, because at Misty's expense it was making the entire trip a little less awkward.

A few nights in, they actually settled for more than a short nap. The three were exhausted and Gary was craving foods other than the instant meals Brock kept whipping up. He was sprawled out on his back in the grass, eyelids drifting shut every now and then as the other male across the camp dozed off as well. Misty was off at a nearby stream 'showering', or the best kind of shower one could manage in the middle of a forest. Gary was nearly slipping into sleep when a sudden, piercing shriek jolted him upright and out of his daze, confused and frantic eyes locking on Brock, who was looking just as frazzled.

"Misty," the Pewter leader gulped, hurrying to his feet and dashing through the nearby shrubs and into the trees. Gary leapt up and rushed after him. He struggled to keep up with the panicked man as another scream split through the trees. The two crashed through the remaining tree line and stumbled into a small clearing where a thick stream wound through.

The first thing Gary noticed was that Misty looked completely unharmed, and very much naked.

The redhead was sitting in the stream, most likely because while standing the water would have only reached her knees. Her arms were occupied with covering her top, her eyes screwed shut and teeth gritted as if a murder were standing in front of her. But Gary definitely didn't see one, or anyone for that matter.

"What – Oh my God – _Misty!_" Brock turned his back quickly, hands slapping over his eyes. Gary then felt awkward that he hadn't made a similar gesture, and made an obvious attempt to stare anywhere that involved turning his head, wishing away an uncomfortable blush that was growing on his face.

"Do something, do something!" She shrieked, as if oblivious to the fact that she was completely undressed in front of her childhood friend and her ex-fiancé's rival. "It's in my_ clothes!_"

Finally, a place that Gary could comfortably settle his eyes. At the edge of the bank, there was a pile of fabric that the woman had removed before she had entered the stream, and he could clearly see that there was a moving bump curled up in the clothing. Taking a few steps forward, he grabbed a nearby thin stick and levered it under the top shirt, flicking it out of the way. He had no way of knowing what was giving Misty such a fright, but he was sure it wasn't something he wanted to touch if it was making her this terrified.

"What the hell?" He narrowed his eyes, not sure that what he was seeing could really be what Misty had meant him to find. "Are you joking? A caterpie?"

Misty whimpered at the mention of the creature, still refusing to open her eyes. At this declaration Brock turned around again and sighed heavily.

"Can you not make a habit of this?" Brock's shoulders sagged. "I thought you were being murdered or something, Misty."

"I can't get to my clothes!" She squeaked, opening her eyes only the slightest bit. "Get it out, get it out, _get it out!_"

Gary flung aside the stick and rolled the little bug-type with the smack of a hand, holding his fist of clothing out to the redhead and looking away. Brock jumped forward and scooped the caterpie into his hands, glaring at Gary like he had committed some kind of crime.

"You didn't have to hit it like that," he scolded, carrying the creature over to a nearby tree and allowing it to crawl from his hands onto the bark. Gary rolled his eyes. Like he cared about some random caterpie. He really just wanted Misty to put her damn clothes on so they could get back to camp.

"You know bug-types creep me out, Brock!" Misty tried to redeem herself on the walk back, but the damage was already done. "What did you want me to do?!"

"You couldn't have waited for the caterpie to crawl out on its own?" Brock suggested, stifling laughter once the initial awkwardness of the encounter had died down for all of them. "They're harmless."

"I don't care if they're harmless!" She yelled, but when Brock and Gary both rounded on her with fingers raised to their lips, she toned it down. "They're still gross."

Another night fell upon the forest relatively quickly. Gary curled up in his sleeping bag and found himself wishing Umbreon was there to keep him company during the night. He hadn't seen her since they had entered the forest and half wanted her to make a brief appearance just to reassure him that nothing had befallen her yet. The three were forming a sort of triangle around a snuffed out fire, but he noticed neither of his counterparts were asleep just yet. Neither was looking in his direction, though - both stared absentmindedly upwards at the starry sky.

"What are we doing out here?"

Misty's voice caught his attention, and then the question registered. He expected someone, maybe even he, to ask her what she meant, but he found that he already knew. Brock didn't speak a word either.

"We're not doing this out of responsibility," she scoffed, her voice slipping into a bitter tone. It was strange to hear her so suddenly displeased - not surprising, but strange, as she had kept a relatively positive mood since the start, save for any mention of bug-types. "We're moving further away from everything we're responsible for every day."

"You're the one who said we had a responsibility to help," Gary murmured, confused as to why all of a sudden the woman was changing her mind.

"Because we do," she went on, tone growing more irritated. "But how do we know this will really help? What if we don't find anything and we come back and find our cities are worse off than we left them? Our families?"

Gary didn't have much to say to that. The family he had left lived in Pallet Town. If Viridian was worse off when he returned, he probably wouldn't feel anything resembling guilt. Galactic Police could be blamed for the city's condition, not him.

"Do you want to turn back?"

Brock's question hung in the air. Gary didn't answer immediately, but he knew the answer in the back of his mind. No. He wouldn't turn back even if they did. He didn't have anything left for him back in Viridian City, and despite the refuge it had offered for years, he didn't want to return to his dusty underground hideaway. He much preferred travelling, even if it were aimlessly.

Misty didn't reply at all. She turned over in her sleeping bag and after a short while, he could hear the steadied tone of her breathing signaling that she had fallen asleep. Even though the question had long gone unanswered, Brock propped himself onto his elbows and turned it on Gary.

"Well," he prodded. "Do you?"

Gary positioned himself up on his forearms and contemplated the best answer to that question.

"Honestly?" He began, and the other man nodded. "I just don't want to go back. I don't care whether we keep looking or not, but I am not turning back."

"What if we don't find anything?"

Brock didn't seem to be asking these questions with the same motives Misty had been. Her voice had betrayed that she was merely echoing fears that had been bothering her since their departure. When Gary answered Brock, he felt like he was being psychoanalyzed.

"I don't know," he admitted. "What does it even matter? I can't go back there. There's nothing there for me."

"All those people rely on you."

Gary scoffed. "Bullshit. As far as they know I haven't had a pokemon in years, so what do I have to protect them with? Nothing."

"At least you're a symbol of strength."

"I'm not a symbol of shit," he rolled his eyes. "If anything, I represent how defeated Viridian is. 'The former League Champion took up our gym and Galactic snatched it right out from under him'? What a great symbol."

Brock didn't say anything for a few moments. Gary allowed his head to his sleeping bag and tried to quell the frustration that was growing within him.

"Well, if we don't find anything, I have to go back," he offered. "And I'm not interested in raising any more kids in a nation like this. Something has to change."

"You have kids?"

"No," Brock clarified, "just a lot of brothers and sisters."

"Why don't you just take them and make a run for it?" He suggested, snorting mid-sentence at the absurdity of the idea. "Not that it'd be a smart move, but who knows, maybe you'd end up in Unova or somewhere."

"Of course I've thought about it," he admitted. "But I'd need a flying-type. Or a water-type, though I'm not sure I trust the open ocean enough to travel on it for weeks. Given the supplies you'd need to survive a trip that lengthy, you would need a pretty hefty pokemon, too. Plus, it would probably be a one-man trip so there would even be room for the supplies. Assuming every trip went flawlessly, it'd probably take close to a year, maybe more than that, to move everyone in my family to a place like Unova."

"I wonder how many people have made trips like that," he pondered aloud. There were probably plenty of people in the region like him, with no one who immediately depended on them. They could try a trip like that and have nothing to lose but their own lives. But how many of those people had a pokemon that could stand a grueling journey like that would be? If he had his blastoise…

Brief images flashed through his mind of himself on the back of his giant pokemon, the wind ripping by and waves tossing up around him. Of Blastoise hauling himself onto the beach with considerable effort, sand sticking to his rubbery scales, children in bathing suits being playfully squirted by a young horsea or a krabby…

He shook his head. That was ridiculous. Besides, horsea and krabby didn't even exist in Unova. Anyone who had managed to obtain a rudimentary knowledge of the other region's ecology before Galactic had banned the subjects knew that Unova had the strictest immigration laws of all the nations. Invasive species were essentially unheard of, and visitors who wanted to bring their pokemon into the nation filled out mountains of paperwork.

Gary realized that Brock had said something during his mental vacation, and became alert again.

"What did you say?"

"Sh!" Brock hissed, and instantly he was on edge. Brock was aware of something that he had missed while fantasizing about a daring escape from Kanto. Were they being watched?

Then Gary could hear it too. A distant buzzing that made his heart flutter, and it was getting closer. Brock flashed him a fearful look.

"We have to go."


	3. Red and Blue

Reviews are always appreciated!

**Disclaimer: I do not claim to own Pokemon.**

* * *

Camp was frantically packed within the next minute, everything haphazardly tossed into whichever backpack was closest. Misty was shaken awake and harshly scolded when she tried complaining, still unaware of exactly what the danger was.

Gary sure as hell wasn't going to be the one to tell her.

They started off immediately, walking at a brisk pace but as quietly as they could manage. Gary wished he could will Umbreon beside him, but she simply had orders to wait for them near the Pallet end of the forest. He had no way of knowing how far ahead she was, or if she had stuck around nearby.

"They're getting closer," Brock whispered. Gary could hear it too. Misty was beginning to grow frantic.

"Will someone just tell me what we're trying to get away from?" She snapped quietly. "What is it? Galactic Police?"

Gary tried to ignore her, but her complaints went on until he finally burst.

"Beedrills," he hissed quietly. "Can't you hear the goddamn buzzing?"

The redhead fell silent after that.

When they reached a thick stream, Gary counted himself lucky. Beedrill couldn't fly if their wings were damp, and so they either needed a miracle rainstorm or a source of water. Brock and Misty moved as if to carry on, but Gary stopped them.

"Wait," he explained. "If we hide here, maybe they'll pass over without being bothered by us. If they start getting aggressive we can take a dip until they fly over - they won't follow us into the water."

Misty looked pale-faced already. Brock nodded and the three took up refuge in nearby shrubbery. The buzzing was incredibly close now. He wasn't petrified like Misty, but he had to admit that he understood why the dull drone creeped some people out. Why anyone would specialize in bug-types, he didn't know.

When the first few beedrill hummed through the trees, he ceased every sound and motion. Even breathing seemed too loud for him to be doing. When he looked up to see one passing over him through the leaves, his eyes widened.

Where its head and thorax connected he spotted an object. Metal, blinking a few colors every now and then...he recognized it. His grandfather had collared wild pokemon before for research. Collars had a few abilities, most notably how they enable one to track that particular pokemon almost anywhere. But the more beedrills that buzzed into view, the more collars Gary saw. There wasn't likely a scientific reason to collar so many beedrills of the same hive, which meant they were captive. Besides, only members of one particular group were allowed to conduct pokemon research anymore…

They were Galactic beedrill. No doubt the forest was crawling with police if so many beedrill were flying about. Perhaps they were even looking specifically for the three of them. Even if said police were only looking for troublemaking kids trying to pick up wild pokemon, they would no doubt be delighted to stumble across three gym leaders off duty.

The beedrill suddenly poured in by the dozens. The buzz reached an almost intolerable volume, and he was sure Misty was nearby whimpering her head off and nobody would hear a peep of it over the hum. He could hear distant voices shouting now.

Within the next few moments, something unexpected occurred. Gary watched from between twigs as a beedrill emerged from the trees into the group - but this one was not collared. The captive hive all buzzed around in a confused state for a few moments before the intruder landed. It did a strange dance, holding its sparsely haired belly to the ground, in that peculiar way that beedrill do with its two legs splayed out far on either side. It held its thick arm-protrusions out to either side, which were beginning to drip a thick liquid. Some of the other beedrill began to land and imitate its dance. All seemed peaceful for a short moment. Then all hell broke loose.

As if some sort of beedrill code had been broken, the collared pokemon descended on the intruder in a frenzy. Flying pokemon were jabbing at it with their abdomen stinger while grounded beedrill were fencing with it. Other airborne beedrill were crashing into each other in their maddening rage and some were stinging their allies, though Gary couldn't tell if it were on accident or if they had just abandoned all sense of teamwork. Gary could not hear the approaching humans over the pandemonium, but when they burst through the trees and started firing their guns into the hive group, he nearly jumped out of his skin.

"Hey!" One was shouting, recalling beedrill by the handful. "Hey, cut it out!"

"Stupid bastards!" The shooting man was growling and taking out beedrill after beedrill as chunks of decimated insect splattered the trees and grass.

Shortly, the group of five had the entire hive under control. All the beedrill had been recalled or shot dead. The shooting man spit and holstered his pistol.

"This is why I didn't want to use these fucking beedrill," he hissed. "Too territorial for their own damn good."

"The butterfree were a better idea," another crossed his arms. "Send a whole fleet of 'em over the forest, have them spraying stun spores all over the place, and comb through it after their done. Any troublemakers would be stuck where they were until we found 'em."

"Better yet, just have them spraying poison powder," a third offered with a chuckle.

"We'd get all sorts of shit for that," the shooting man spit again. "The stun spore idea was 'too dangerous to the local wildlife'. Like these beedrill aren't? That sucker over there got ripped to shreds."

"Maybe we should snap a picture of it," one suggested. "Show it Charon?"

"No," another said. "Charon's too worried about kissing ass. He'd never show anything that might stir up trouble to Cyrus."

The dialogue continued until the group had ambled through the area and were out of earshot. Gary let loose the breath he hadn't known he was holding.

"Oh my God," Misty was the first to crawl out of the bush, hands and knees and looking wild-eyed. "My God. I can't."

She fanned her face frantically with one hand. For all the tomboy hype he used to hear about her, Gary hadn't seen one hint of backbone in Misty since they had gotten to the forest.

"That was a little closer than I'd like to get to police," Brock commented, dusting himself off as Gary pulled leaves from his own hair.

"No kidding," he agreed, and then turned his eyes back to the scene the Galactics had created. Bug guts were everywhere, and he had no doubt that the stench of it all would soon be bringing in predators. But he wasn't so inclined to leave yet.

"I think we should take some of this," he approached the carnage, curiosity attracting Brock too as Misty hung back.

"What?" Misty exclaimed with a hand muffling her words. "Stock up on beedrill insides?"

Gary ignored her and examined one of the dead bodies. Removing a small pocketknife from his bag, he severed the two needle-like appendages on its arms and examined them. They were still dripping, and he was careful to avoid getting any of the substance on his fingers.

"Here," Brock handed him a small bag. "You don't want to pack those in your bag with anything we might use."

Wisely, he gave them their own pocket. The last thing he needed was beedrill venom coming into contact with the food they had left to eat. He wished he could skin the body and maybe take some of the meat, but considering how the other beedrill had been stinging each other, he didn't want to risk eating poisoned flesh. Instead he popped out the eyes. When a small pinsir showed up at the scene and clacked its pincers at them, they knew it was time to get a move on, and they left the bug-type to get started on the smorgasbord before bigger pokemon started showing up.

He wasn't really sure if beedrill eyes were something people ate, but he was pretty sure you could eat just about anything after you charred it over a fire, and he was half wondering if he could make Misty puke by actually stomaching one.

* * *

When the three of them reached the end of Viridian Forest and Umbreon did not immediately leap out at them, nerves started brewing deep in Gary's gut. However, when he reached his grandfather's house to find the dark-type already inside, rubbing up against the old man's legs and producing a pleased 'churr'-ing sound typical of her species, he relaxed.

His grandfather seemed to have aged another ten years every time Gary saw him, even if it had only been a few months in between visits. The toll Galactic was taking on the old man was not an easy one. He had to cope with his life's research being entirely confiscated as well as the pokemon he had worked with, many of which had been born and raised in the lab. Since the lab had burned down years ago, he had rebuilt a simple house. Why bother to try and reassemble a laboratory when he was forbidden to continue his studies?

"Gary," the former professor looked especially pleased to see him. "I didn't think you'd come."

Gary would have been rougher in his reply, but he figured he should go easy on the old man. Instead he simply shrugged.

_Leave it to Gramps to make a big deal out of me showing up._

"Misty, Brock," Oak seemed just as pleased to see the other two travelers. "It's been quite some time. How have you both been?"

For roughly five minutes a constant stream of pleasantries were exchanged. Gary reclined on a nearby couch and closed his eyes as Brock and the elder Oak exchanged updates on the former's many family members – God, he had to have gone through at least a dozen siblings by now – while occasionally Misty would answer some question about the state of Cerulean City. The whole situation was sort of grating on him. Couldn't they discuss this kind of stuff over some food or something? It wasn't like they had taken the S.S. Anne to Pallet Town. As he relaxed his head on a pillow, he noted that he needed a real shower. The furniture smelled better than he did.

Finally, some dinner was prepared for them. Gary wolfed it down like a madman and though he wanted to try his best to ignore the conversation going on around him, he knew the entire reason he had braved that trip was to hear what his grandfather had to say about…_that_ certain subject.

"He's the last hope we have, you know."

_That's how you're going to segue into this topic, Gramps? You're losing your touch._

Misty was the first to speak up about it. "How are you so sure?"

Misty Waterflower certainly scored some points in his book for that comment. Why did his grandfather have to be so sure of Ash Ketchum all the damn time? He had been missing for years and the old man was still holding out for him.

"I can't, of course," Oak debated. "But think of it this way. He's one of a few places. He's in Kanto and in the same boat as all of us. That is, without pokemon. If that's the case, then the entire nation might be…well, done in."

Like Gary couldn't predict that himself.

"He could be in another nation, just fine and unable to get back into Kanto. Or, he could be in Kanto, somewhere where he hasn't been found, in which case it is likely he still has all of his pokemon."

Gary simply had to cut in.

"And what?" He began. "If he's not in Kanto, how are we supposed to get to him? Book a flight on "United Galactic Airlines"?"

"If he were outside of Kanto," Brock added, "he would still have his pokemon. Outside of Sinnoh, too, that is. Don't you think he would have done something once he realized Kanto was being boxed in?"

Gary snorted. "Like what? Swooped in and saved the day? That would have included showing his sorry face."

"Gary," the older Oak interjected sternly, and Gary tightened his grip on his fork.

"So if he's here," Misty continued the conversation on, "how are we supposed to know where? It's not like we didn't search before. We searched everywhere."

"I think it is worth turning over a few old stones," his grandfather suggested. "It's been a long time since anyone last looked for Ash Ketchum."

The three collectively hitched a breath at the mention of his name. For as much as they discussed him, it was almost like a mutual agreement kept any of them from directly speaking his name.

* * *

That night Gary Oak lay sleepless in the guest bed of his grandfather's house. Misty and Brock had been offered a place to stay at Ms. Ketchum's - Gary wondered how awkwardly that was going, with Misty being her ex-daughter-in-law.

Whatever. As long as he wasn't staying there. He liked Ms. Ketchum well enough, but she had no shame about letting the waterworks flow, and Gary wasn't exactly one to deal with situations like that. It seemed like every time he stopped by to visit his grandfather she showed up and had some teary-eyed comment to make about him and Ash playing together as children.

_Five, ten,_ twelve_ years after he dropped off the planet I didn't really want to hear it anymore, lady. Give me a break._

Down the hall, Gary could hear Tracey Sketchit snoring. He knew that some time ago Tracey had come to Pallet Town as one of Professor Oak's young hopeful interns, but after the lab had been shut down he had been the only one to stick around. Fortunately for Tracey, he had a particular knack for drawing pokemon, with several of his works showcased around the house in frames. Unlike many people who had made former livings in a pokemon-based career, his still had hope. According to his grandfather Tracey was gone at all hours of the day and night, observing wild pokemon and sketching them. Gary assumed this was one of the reasons his grandfather let Tracey stick around for so long, aside from his softness. If Tracey was selling his art, he was probably bringing in more money than Oak was.

_Once upon a time, Gramps made more money than anyone I know._

But that didn't so much matter now, did it?

Tracey had been ecstatic to meet Umbreon, and had practically begged Gary to let him sketch her. It wasn't like he cared. But he didn't want Umbreon's presence getting known around town, so the dark-type was confined to the upper floor of the house and had strict orders to avoid windows. He felt bad, always confining her, giving her these limitations…but they were for her own safety. He couldn't imagine what had befallen the rest of his team and didn't particularly like to dwell on it, but he wasn't going to let his umbreon get dragged into it as well.

God, he wished he could sleep. It was always hard to in Pallet Town. Memories were everywhere. Maybe that was why he kept his visits short and sweet. It was difficult to even walk down a road and not think of some distant childhood memory that accompanied it. It was only ten or so o'clock, but he had hoped to retire early simply because he knew he would be up for a few extra hours, mulling away and staring holes in the ceiling.

"Yes, well, I know his parents used to call him Blue on occasion."

Gary was suddenly alert. The professor's voice was a quiet whisper outside his room; clearly, he was under the impression that his grandson was asleep. He wasn't sure yet who the receiving party might be, but they were discussing him. More importantly, they were discussing his parents.

If he were not so curious, he might have wasted time spitting with contempt at the mere mention of them. Two grown adults who had gone through all the trouble of creating two children without the slightest intention of parenting them. Or perhaps they _had_ had some intention at first, after all May Oak had spent the first four years of her life in their care and swore that they had treated her well. It wasn't until he came along that anything started to get fishy with his parents, and that was something else he felt resentment towards them for. Why attempt to raise one kid and then skip out on the next? If you couldn't possibly be burdened with the task of having two, why _have_ the second one at all?

He almost wished that he could blame the situation on some horrible outside influence, like drugs or alcohol or some other kind of addiction. But it was never that. In fact, somewhere in the world his parents were very successful businesspeople, or so they had been last time he had heard mention of them. They were simply too busy to behave like parents. As a child he would pretend his parents had secret missions to attend to during their absences. But the older he got the longer those absences became. Their first excursion that lasted longer than a few days must have occurred around age three. He couldn't remember much of it, but May had painted a pretty realistic picture of how it must have gone. They swore to be home soon, Mother-dearest tipped her hat to them and the pair were off, and so they stayed with Gramps for the next few months. May was old enough to be written to by this time, and so she on occasion received letters that elated her. Gary was much too young for this, but even as he aged he found he was not mentioned in these letters regardless. Contacting May became less frequent behavior from them. By the time Gary was coming up into his preteens he could not have told anyone who asked where his parents had skipped off to or when they would be back. In fact it almost never crossed his mind. The simple fact was that his parents were never around, and he was quite used to it.

He personally didn't think it affected him. May tried to pull psychoanalytic shit on him whenever it was brought up, but he ignored her. It didn't bother him that his parents weren't around anymore. He had become the goddamn Champion without any help from them. Not that there was any proof that they even knew.

Not unlike someone else.

But in the few memories he had of his parents that did not include them coming or going, they would affectionately refer to him as Blue. His mother had always admired his eyes. Or perhaps admired was not the right word. He was quite certain his parents never admired anything in particular about him or his sister.

"I'll certainly show it to him once he's up in the morning. I'll leave it here on the nightstand outside, perhaps he'll see it before I get to him."

Gary had to know what they were talking about, but he felt as if he had to wait for them to depart first. It was foolish and he knew it. He could definitely get up, step outside the room, introduce himself into the conversation and explain that he had not yet fallen asleep. He was thirty-one years old, for God's sake. But there was something about eavesdropping and finding the details out for yourself that he hadn't done in dozens of years - something attractive about the childish nature of sneaking around your grandfather.

He waited until footsteps and voices had faded away. Then he emerged from his bed and crossed the wooden floor quietly in his bare feet. He opened the door a crack and slipped one hand outside, nabbing the folded piece of paper on the nightstand and pulled it back in with him.

Now to examine it. The door shut safely behind him, he unfolded the ratty old document to reveal…a map. Just a map? What was so special about this?

That's when he noticed the writing. When he turned it over, a message was scrawled in thick black marker. The blocky chunks of writing were obscuring some of the Kanto-Johto's cities and landmarks.

_**SILVER, BLUE.**_

_**- RED.**_

He stared at the writing for a few moments more. Blue was the nickname his parents had bestowed upon him, but after he had grown bitter enough from their lack of contact and care, he banned everyone else from speaking it. His grandfather, his teachers, his friends, anyone who tried to revive the nickname was quickly shut down.

Except Ash.

No matter how many times Gary snapped at Ash about the use of that name, he kept on bringing it back up. That was how he had ended up with the half a pokeball he lugged around with him - yes, he had brought it with him. The two were only children, fighting for the final time about calling him Blue.

_"I think it's a cool name!"_

_"You're stupid! I told you not to call me that anymore!"_

_"But I like it! Stop yelling, you're gonna scare all the pokemon away."_

_"Then stop calling me that!"_

_"Blue, Blue, Blue –"_

Gary remembered throwing down his fishing pole at the edge of the stream and shoving the other child as hard as he could. The black-haired boy fell backwards and splashed into the stream. Gary laughed and laughed until he realized tears were welling up in the other child's eyes.

_"Why are you so mean?"_

The little boy was sniffling, blood trickling out of a swelling lip. Gary hadn't meant to hurt him. He knew Ash hadn't even been trying to pick on him - Ash never picked on anyone, least of all Gary. The smaller boy had bit his lip in his surprise at the shove.

_"I didn't mean to. You shouldn't have called me that! You started it!"_

Gary didn't know what to do with himself. He didn't want to go home with Ash still crying for fear of getting yelled at by Ms. Ketchum.

_"Fine. Fine. You can call me Blue."_

_"Really?"_

The other had sniffled and started to pull himself together.

_"But I'm gonna call you Red. For that _stupid_ hat you have."_

The hat was a little too big for him at the time, and so instead it sat on the foot of his bed in his room, which Gary had frequented often. The black-haired boy had brought it up whenever he could, going on and on about how once he was big enough he would wear it wherever he went. Even at the small size he had been then, he could be found trotting around town with it gripped in his hands by the brim.

_"It's not stupid! My dad got me that hat!"_

Gary kept teasing him about the hat until they both returned home. Ash had wiped his swollen lip on Gary's sleeve to keep his mom from seeing any blood on him. They stayed out so long that his clothes dried from their dip in the river, but Gary was sure Ms. Ketchum eventually saw the swollen lip Ash had been sporting. Nonetheless Gary never heard a word about it, and the nicknames stuck.

In retrospect, teasing Ash about the hat had been a low blow. Gary kept on making fun of it through the years and eventually the other stopped bringing up that his father had gotten it for him, since that sentimental notion never stopped Gary from poking fun at it. He knew that Ash's father had left when he was incredibly young and had never so much as dropped a line since. He could have been sympathetic, as both of his parents had, to a less extreme version, done the same thing. But he just never was.

Maybe that was why they had started spending so much time together. Everyone in town knew about Ash Ketchum's deadbeat dad and how his parents had never even been married - he didn't even bear his father's last name. The town danced around the subject whenever possible and when faced with it, regarded it with an overabundance of pity. Gary never pitied Ash once about the whole ordeal, never once made it out like Ash was any different from the rest of the children for it.

Meanwhile, the Kanto-Johto map was staring Gary Oak in the face, the thick and sloppy handwriting of Ash Ketchum regarding him mockingly.

_Silver,_ he thought to himself. _Silver, silver…what the hell is so special about silver?_

Silver wasn't some special nickname, or some secret childhood code shared between them. Silver had absolutely no relevance to Gary. He knew this map was meant for him, and left for him by Ash, but he had no idea why.

Frustrated, he put the map down on the nightstand beside his bed and tried to steal any sleep he could.


	4. A Plan Pulled Together

**Disclaimer: I do not own Pokemon.**

* * *

Gary found himself in Ms. Ketchum's kitchen for breakfast.

The house looked identical to every other time he had seen it, except over the years the photos of Delia Ketchum's son had gradually come down. He was glad for it - he couldn't imagine walking in for breakfast and having to stare down a picture of him.

Gary was surprised to find it was not Delia that had cooked the meal for them, but Brock, who was enlisting the help of the elderly Mr. Mime that Ms. Ketchum kept to pass out seconds. Mr. Mime was definitely up there in years by that point, and you could tell by the elderly shuffle in his step. It made Gary think nostalgically about Umbreon. He imagined she only had around four or five years or so left in her before she would be, well...unfit for battle, at the very least, and already he could see minute flecks of gray across her muzzle.

Long ago this sort of thing had been an obstacle that every trainer had to face at some point during their career, especially those who had the misfortune of bonding with a starter species of a short lifespan. What happens when your first, most faithful pokemon companion becomes…well, old? Gary had known several people who had dealt with this before pokemon possession had been banned, and everyone seemed to handle it differently. Since his grandfather had turned to research before that point had been reached, he merely retired many of his original team to a relaxing life lounging around his old laboratory. Others he knew had continued their journeys with younger, fitter pokemon and left those getting up in age to guard the house or with family members.

But it was different for Gary. Umbreon was not only his starter pokemon but his final, possibly for the rest of his life.

_Not if I have anything to say about it._

However he wasn't sure if he did.

"It's been a long time since you last visited, Gary," Delia Ketchum smiled warmly at him, bringing him back to reality. "How has everything in Viridian been?"

_Terrible, haven't you heard? Galactic Police practically own the place, like just about everywhere else. Or did you miss the memo?_

"Fine. You know. Normal."

He kept his input into the conversation short and sweet. Luckily for him, Brock was more than happy to fill the conversation. Misty seemed many times quieter than she had been when conversing with his grandfather, and Gary guessed it had something to do with eating breakfast with her ex-fiancé's mother.

Deciding he could perhaps kill two pidgey with one stone, he removed a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket under the table and nudged the redhead's ankle with his shoe. She turned in his direction, and he gestured to the map he held in one hand in a way that might have said,_ is this yours?_

Cerulean's gym leader shook her head. She then pointed a finger in her counterpart's direction.

"Brock found it."

So engrossed in their conversation, neither Delia nor Brock heard the mention of the latter's name. Gary got up from his seat.

"Excuse me for a second," he brushed it off when Ms. Ketchum moved to inquire. "We'll be right back."

Misty looked as confused as the other two, but Gary ignored it and led the redhead into the hallway, out of sight. He then opened the map fully and held it before Misty.

"Where did this come from?"

The redhead's blue eyes narrowed, as if she were wondering why Gary Oak sounded so serious all of a sudden.

"Brock found it," she answered. "He decided he wanted to go through…old rooms, just to see if anything had been missed before."

"Was it in_ his_ room?"

More of these silly games. As if upon the mention of his name, Ash Ketchum might step out of the closet, or peek in the window. Ha. Tip-toeing around the name of the person they were supposed to be hoping to find.

"Yes," she answered more quietly. "What's going on? Is there something important about it?"

"This is his handwriting," he spread the map so wide it bunched on either side where he gripped it. "Didn't you recognize it?"

For some reason his sternness was growing into irritation. Why wasn't Misty having some sort of epiphany? Why didn't she recognize her own ex-fiancé's handwriting? Didn't the word 'silver' mean something to her if not to him?

"Listen, I never even got to see this thing before Brock took it to the professor," she started getting defensive in return. "So maybe I would have recognized it if I had been given more than half a second to look at it."

"Don't you get it?" He went on, both of their tempers beginning to spark. "This is a map! With his handwriting on it! It could be some sort of clue to where he went, why wasn't I shown this immediately?"

"What the hell would it matter if you were?" She retorted. "You were asleep, and it's not like you had some sort of great epiphany when you saw it, now is it? Or you wouldn't be here shoving it in my face like you want me to decode it!"

"What does the word 'silver' mean to you?"

"What do you think it means? It's just a _color_, genius."

Gary was starting to lose it. This map meant something, it had to, and nobody seemed to be gripping the seriousness of the situation, not even the woman he thought might understand it best! Worse yet the map was addressed to him, and he had no idea what the message was supposed to mean.

_Goddammit, Ash_! He mentally cursed._ Would it have killed you to just be straightforward?_

"Is everything alright back here?"

There was an awkward silence during which Delia Ketchum stared at them both with concerned motherly eyes in the entrance to the hallway. During the discussion the two had somehow both lost track of their volumes and attracted the attention of the other two adults seated in the kitchen. They both grumbled meek apologies and returned to the table, where Brock was watching them judgmentally.

After breakfast Brock convinced both he and Misty to accompany him to the elder Oak's house. Gary debriefed the oldest of the three of them on his thoughts on the map, but Brock too found no significance in the message.

"Maybe Tracey would know something?"

Gary highly doubted it, but at that point he had become so frustrated with the whole ordeal that he was willing to try anybody. Unfortunately the artist was just as clueless as the rest of them, and they made their way outside, seated on the back porch to think.

"Silver," Gary muttered while staring at the map, seated in a wooden lawn chair. Then, in a burst of growing anger he threw it to the grass. "What the hell kind of relevance would the word silver have to anyone?!"

Misty moved from her seat to pick up the paper, and faster than he could think about it Gary had snatched it out of her reach.

"What the hell!" She cried indignantly. "Why are you so damn possessive of that thing? I don't see your name on it!"

"Is that so?" He spread the paper with one hand and pointed condescendingly at the scrawled message. "Because I'm definitely seeing it right here."

"What, suddenly you have secret code names?" She snapped.

"It was my parents' nickname for me before they bailed out of parenting," he jeered, "Only _he _insisted on using it. You wouldn't know that, since it's probably just another thing he seemed to have forgotten to tell you…kind of like where the hell he went off to."

Misty let out an enraged cry and stomped to her feet, making her way down the porch steps and off into town.

"Misty, wait!" Brock tried to call after her, but she ignored the other man.

"You're a jackass, Gary Oak!" She turned on her heels and yelled back at him. "No wonder Ash never liked you!"

In her rage Misty had broken the unspoken taboo, and it felt strange to hear that name resonate in his ears in her voice. Then the words she had shouted back at him sunk in, and he responded the only logical way he could imagine to at the moment.

He grabbed the map as hard as he could and ripped it straight in half.

"My God, Gary," Brock was there in a flash, wrestling the remaining two halves from his hands and tucking them safely away in his pockets. Instantly he felt naked. "Would it kill you to be civil?"

"Would it kill any of you to understand how important that map is?" He snapped back, even though Brock was speaking in a very calm, even-keel voice. Somehow it made him even angrier, like Brock was regarding him like some child throwing a temper tantrum and not an adult on the same level as he was. "We have to find out what 'silver' means, and not even she –"he pointed accusingly in the direction Misty had disappeared in, "- seems to get that! We don't have time to sit around on porches and sip tea and wonder passively about who we should ask or what we should do next!"

"I get it," Brock said, still standing in the space in front of where Gary sat in his chair. "We all miss him, you know."

"What the hell are you talking about now? I didn't say anything about missing that loser."

It had been awhile, possibly years since Gary had bothered to degrade anybody. He had plenty of dirt on his employees from living under the floor, but he had never bothered to use it against any of them. He had heard of people doing questionable things to get out of trouble with the Galactic Police or to get money to feed their families with, and while when he was younger he might have sneered at them silently or to their face, he had taken a long break from in general being an asshole. He had simply been too tired, too busy. But the topic of Ash Ketchum had for so many years been sunk deep to the bottom of his mental ocean, and now it was splashing so blatantly at the surface that he felt he almost had no other choice of how to deal with it.

"Then why are you here?"

"He was my rival - the sooner he gets back, the sooner I can start competing seriously again."

"Get a new rival, then. If that's all this is about."

"Right. Get a new one. In twelve years no has even come close to taking his place!"

"So it's more than that, then."

"No?" He scowled. "I never said that."

"You could compete against anyone, Gary," Brock began firmly. "Anyone. Every gym leader, every Elite, every run-of-the-mill trainer is technically someone who has the potential to rival your spot as gym leader, who used to rival you for your spot as Champion. Why not settle for that competition? Why isn't that enough?"

"You wouldn't get it," he sneered, getting to his feet which forced Brock a few steps backwards. Suddenly being polite to Ash Ketchum's old friends wasn't something he was concerned with anymore. The entire trip he had felt like it would be simple to tag along with those two and behave civilly, keep an air of detachment, and maybe they would be useful to finding his old rival. But not now, not when he felt he was being attacked by one of them. "For all I know, you don't even have any childhood friends that go that far back - I don't even remember _meeting_ Ash, that's how long ago it was!"

"So you just admitted it."

There was a pregnant silence. Gary narrowed his eyes.

"What are you talking about?"

"He's your friend, and that's why you're here."

"He's my rival, numbskull," he rolled his eyes and pushed by the older man, making a quick grab into his pocket and fishing out the map before the other could stop him. "There's a difference."

Brock looked slightly bewildered at the pickpocketing, but Gary pressed on down the steps, only stopping to call one comment over his shoulder.

"He could be dead, you know." He hardly glanced back. "Chopped up and roasted by some wild pokemon or gunned down by Galactic Police."

By the time Brock had formulated an answer, Gary was too far away to hear it.

"I try not to think about it. But I know."

* * *

Gary could have contemplated how he had treated Misty, or the harsh way he had come across to Brock. But he did neither of these things. There was one thing about Gary Oak that had stuck with him consistently throughout all of the events that had changed other aspects of him. He simply didn't care what people thought about him. He had a goal to reach, and if Ash Ketchum's former companions hated his guts by the time they managed to find him, he didn't give a rattata's ass - so long as they did find him.

He found himself seated at the edge of a floral loveseat in his grandfather's living room, elbows on his knees and nose practically touching the map he had been carrying with him obsessively. By now the paper looked like it had gone through a considerable amount of abuse. A thick strip of clear tape held the two halves together, both of which were wrinkled and smudged.

"Coffee, Gary?"

His grandfather was suddenly standing beside him, holding out a white mug in his direction. He glanced once from over his reading glasses and shook his head. The old man set the mug down on the coffee table in front of him regardless and took a seat across the table.

"You haven't been out of the house the past few days."

"I've been busy," he answered monotonously, never lifting his eyes from the map. The professor sighed.

"You really upset Miss Waterflower."

He really had no interest in talking about it, either. With a heavy sigh he ran his fingers through his hair.

"Gary," the elder Oak continued to press him. "If you're going to be traveling with Brock and Misty, you might as well get along with them."

"We're getting along fine," he mumbled dismissively. His grandfather didn't look convinced, but he let the subject drop.

"Have you found anything?" He inquired, taking a sip of his own coffee.

"No," he closed his eyes for a moment. They burned with exhaustion. "If I could just get a hint to what this 'silver' thing is about…I'd have a place to start. Is it a person I should be talking to? A place I'm supposed to go?"

Professor Oak was watching him with worried eyes. The wrinkles on his aged face deepened with a frown.

"Silver, you say?"

"Yeah," he confirmed, passing the map across the table and offering it to the old man. "See?"

Professor Oak eyed the map for a few silent moments. Gary took the opportunity to take a large drink from the coffee he had said he didn't want.

"Do you have a pen?"

Gary looked up from his mug, confused. Slowly he pulled a pen from his pocket and handed it to his grandfather, who had his eyes trained on something on the map. He scrawled a circle around something and put the paper down against the table, placing the pen behind his ear and pointing with a finger.

"Perhaps you might have overlooked something, my boy."

Gary leaned forward as far as he could manage and put the mug down on the coffee table without sparing it another glance. His blue eyes were locked on the landmark his grandfather had circled. Even on a map, it seemed ominous - looming over the other landmarks such as cities and towns. He hadn't spared it much thought, having been focusing on man-made places where you might expect to find a person. It wasn't even named on the actual map, but now that his grandfather had pointed it out, it stuck out to him as if the name were bolded and underlined across the image.

Maybe that was where he had been going wrong. He had been scouring for places where you would expect to find a person hiding. A busy city, a town stowed away in the middle of the forest. What if his old rival had taken falling out of sight to the most extreme it could be taken?

A place with no one?

He glanced up at his grandfather, who was watching him with steady concern.

"Mt. Silver."

* * *

Gary was angry at himself for not seeing it before. Mt. Silver…it was obvious, if he had only been thinking outside the box. Of course Ash wouldn't have run off to some city or town, he had left – well, as far as anyone knew – due to public humiliation. Why would he hide away in a place that_ had_ a public?

"So you're really sure about this?"

The group of four was seated in Oak's living room. Brock and Misty occupied a couch nearest to the door, the latter of whom was still dealing him the silent treatment. His grandfather was seated in a loveseat beside the one he found himself in, and the map occupied the coffee table between them.

"It is the only plausible lead we have now," Professor Oak explained.

"So we need a plan to get going," Gary interjected, and the two other men looked at him skeptically. Misty didn't spare him a glance at all, her blue eyes still trained on the ceiling, or really anywhere else but him.

"Gary," Oak began, "Mt. Silver is incredibly dangerous, as you know."

"Without any pokemon to defend us, walking into Mt. Silver is practically suicide," Brock added.

"Pokemon might be illegal, but guns aren't," Gary shrugged. "Besides, we have Umbreon, and she's coming with us."

This time he was met with a look from all three other parties, and Misty bothered to speak up.

"You'd put her in that kind of danger?" She snorted. "That's _so_ responsible."

_Bitch._

He ignored her. He had spent the last twelve years protecting Umbreon from every possible danger and he thought it was about time she got to help him out again. Knowing his starter, he figured she would be more than up to it - probably even excited to do something outside confinement.

"The pokemon aren't the only concern," his grandfather continued. "Mt. Silver is heavily guarded nowadays."

Gary had nearly forgotten about that aspect. When Team Galactic had essentially claimed total control over Kanto, they had come to the tricky aspect of getting Mt. Silver under their control. This was a near impossible feat, seeing that Mt. Silver spanned across Kanto and Johto, who couldn't be allowed to interfere with anything they decided. Johto at the time had still been offended at the League murder accusations which had never gone about being proven – mostly because they were a sham – and so Galactic had to tip-toe around dealing with Johto. If they got a nation too badly pissed off at them, they might actually bother to do something about Kanto's new government.

But that didn't happen. Like all nations, Johto was never going to get up and stop Team Galactic unless something was in it for them. Because combating Team Galactic would likely cause more upset than good for their region, they had chosen to do absolutely nothing instead. After a few conferences discussing the changes Galactic wanted to impart on Mt. Silver, the two nations came to an agreement. The Kanto entrances to Mt. Silver were to be guarded, so heavily guarded that they would be near impassible. Meanwhile, the Johto entrances would remain the same as they always had been, which of course Galactic didn't mind, seeing as international travel from Kanto was only legal to Sinnoh.

"There's got to be ways past that," Gary combated.

"Are they worth it?" Brock added skeptically, raising his eyebrows. "Those guards are sure to be armed. Besides, we would need pokemon for once we were on the mountain, and if we were caught sneaking through security with pokemon? The penalties would be serious."

"What is it nowadays, anyway?" Misty mumbled, mostly to the Pewter Gym leader. "Five years per pokemon?"

"You must remember who you are," Professor Oak put in forebodingly. "Five years per pokemon might be the sentence for a civilian, but you three are gym leaders. And you Gary, you're an ex-Champion. Imagine a Galactic grunt running into you three, armed with pokemon. Do you think they would want to take the chance of bringing you in?" He paused, and all three younger parties were listening intently. "That kind of news could incite a riot if it were to get out."

"So they'd probably put a bullet in our heads instead," Gary snorted, miming a gunshot to his temple with his fingers.

"I think," Misty began, cringing at his blunt gesture, "if we're going to do anything at all with this Mt. Silver lead –"

" – Which we are –"

She ignored him.

" – we should do it from inside Johto. We can't risk running into that high of security, pokemon or no pokemon. Besides, where are we going to get these pokemon here in Kanto? Without pokeballs, how would we keep them hidden on us?"

As soon as the suggestion was out there, Gary found one thousand little things wrong with the plan. He couldn't tell if the idea was legitimately a bad one or if he was just nitpicking the redhead because he knew it would offend her, but he wasted no time making them known.

"Oh, please," he started, and with the words out of his mouth Misty was already staring him down, Brock and the elder Oak wearing twin expressions of exasperation. "Do it from inside Johto? Because there are planes and boats and trains just piling people from Kanto to Johto every day, right?"

"We'd have to sneak into Johto somehow, obviously."

"If sneaking into Johto were that easy," he countered, "would any of us still be here?"

"I don't see you coming up with any great ideas," she snapped, crossing her legs and arms and turning her nose up at him.

"Easy," he returned. "We have Umbreon here, in Kanto, already. We head towards Mt. Silver – armed, of course – and we undoubtedly run into a few guards. Team Galactic has access to pokemon, so the guards probably have a few on them. Once we've taken out the guards, we can take their pokemon, and those are the ones we'll use to get us into the mountain and through safely."

"Because killing Galactic security and taking their pokemon is just _so_ easy, right?" She snipped. "If it was, _'would any of us still be here'_?"

Gary's lips curled back in disgust and he rolled his eyes at her. At that point, Professor Oak stood up to interject.

"Alright," he began steadily, "there's no need to argue about this. Both plans come with their own risks and benefits. I have a few important questions for each of you, if you don't mind."

Both Gary and Misty shook their heads and shrugged.

"Now, Misty," he addressed the redheaded gym leader, "you say you'd prefer sneaking over the border into Johto. Then you would be free to collect pokemon for the journey and enter Mt. Silver unchallenged, correct?"

She nodded, eyes clear and trained on the professor without a hint of impatience.

"This sounds like a fine plan to me - however, how do you propose getting across the border?"

The Cerulean City leader seemed stumped for a moment at that one. Gary watched her intently. He knew he should have been hoping that she would come up with some brilliant plan that would reduce the risk for all three of them, but instead found himself wishing that she would be unable to answer, leaving the master planning to someone like himself.

"That would be the riskiest part," she answered slowly at first. "We would have to go on foot. There are guards posted at the Kanto-Johto border, but if we're prepared to run into Mt. Silver security, what big deal is border patrol?" She glanced at him out of the corner of her eyes, and he felt the animosity. "We would need some kind of distraction. Someone causing a scene that couldn't be ignored, and that would give us the time we would need to get through undetected."

"That seems reasonable," his grandfather replied, nodding and turning to Gary, "as far as plans of this magnitude go. Gary?"

He had been waiting for the conversation to turn to him.

"I think that's a lot of extra time wasted," he started off, gesturing dismissively in Misty's direction with his hand. "Who knows how long getting to the border might take, let alone crossing it without being done in by the cops. Besides, even if all of that went well, we don't have time to capture and raise pokemon strong enough to take on the kind of wild pokemon living on Mt. Silver. Sure, we could maybe buy or rent pokemon with enough experience, but we would have to first travel to a big city to do a transaction like that, and we would need a lot of money. Pokemon that can handle Mt. Silver can't be paid for with pocket change."

When he paused to let the many flaws sink in, and no one spoke to challenge him, he continued on.

"Then we would have to make it back to Mt. Silver, all of which could take months. I suggest we just go straight to Mt. Silver from here. Weapons can be purchased here. We wouldn't need anything big, just a pistol or something for each of us. We would have Umbreon, and she's perfectly capable of defending herself and us. After the first guard we took out, we would have even more pokemon. That kind of ammunition would just keep growing the more security we downed. Once we're through, we're through. We head straight up Mt. Silver."

"Yeah?" Misty glared daggers at him. "And what if we get overpowered by security?"

"Same as if we do at the Johto border," Gary shrugged nonchalantly. "We probably die."

"What about afterwards?" Brock added the first comment he had had in a while. "Suppose we get to wherever we're going, and we find…something, or we don't. What do we do then? Security will be tightened if we manage to breach it, and they'll definitely be looking for us to come back down."

"Easy," Gary smirked, knowing this would seal the deal. "We come back down the Johto side. There's no security posted over there. Even if we find nothing, we've made it into Johto. How does picking up a few pokemon to ship your family over there sound?"

Brock looked hesitantly at Misty, who didn't so much as hint at what she might want him to say. The older man nodded.

"Alright," he got to his feet. "I'll admit I like the sounds of it. How are we going to make it happen?"

Gary was quick to get planning. Gary had wanted to go about purchasing most of the supplies himself, but Professor Oak wanted to keep their interaction with the public as minimal as possible. If anyone let slip to the police that three gym leaders had been lounging in Pallet Town for quite some time now, it could be bad news for them and Gary could kiss his master plan goodbye. Instead the elder Oak himself had purchased the handguns - which had to have been a laughable sight, in Gary's eyes - they would each carry and a few basic survival supplies such as knives and canteens. Twelve years existing in a world full of dangerous pokemon without any tamed ones to protect them had been enough firearm experience for all of them, especially as the three were all in charge of their individual cities. Gary felt confident that they would be able to wield them well enough.

For the many places Gary Oak could claim he had been, Mt. Silver was not one of them, and he was doing some serious research. From what he could find, the journey was going to be a slippery, rocky climb in some places, with ripping waterfalls and currents in others, and high enough up the mountain he expected to encounter blizzards that raged at all times of the year.

It didn't seem like a place any sane person would stick themselves.

Despite the fact that they were not sure where exactly they were headed in the mountain, he was itching to get going. Brock seemed much more enthusiastic now that Gary had convinced him they could ship his family into Johto even if they found nothing at all in Mt. Silver. Misty still seemed hesitant, but she was relenting to his plan nonetheless.

Soon enough, everything was set to go.


	5. Into Mt Silver

**Disclaimer: I don't own shit, certainly not Pokemon.**

* * *

A small fire was crackling outside, casting a soft orange glow on the right side of the tent's tarp walls. Beside where he sat, Umbreon pressed her flank against his side, her chin rested on one of his knees. Pewter's gym leader had his knees drawn up to his chest and a blanket cast over his feet. The redhead beside him had her arms placed on her knees and her face hidden, forehead resting on her forearms.

For as annoying as Gary found the Cerulean City leader to be the majority of the time, he had to admit that she had toughened up considerably since their travels through Viridian Forest. He was starting to believe that it really had just been the bugs that had given him a wimpy perception of her and not her actual character.

Regardless, they still butted heads almost whenever possible.

"We should hit the mountain today."

It was more of a command than a suggestion, and Misty raised her head to glare at him resentfully for it.

"I'm not taking orders from you," she snipped. "We'll get there when we get there."

Gary's lips curled in irritation. If they started off soon, they would reach the base of the mountain just as it were getting dark. This would give them the perfect cover to take out a few Team Galactic security guards and begin really making some progress.

He was dying to get going, and his comrades didn't seem the slightest bit anxious.

He didn't understand why the redheaded woman seemed so lax about heading up the mountain. She was the one who had contacted him in the first place. In fact, for days he had debated not even going on the trip. Shouldn't they have been dragging him along, not the other way around?

He got to his feet and started tossing things into his backpack.

"What are you doing?" Misty snapped. "I just said I'm not leaving yet."

"Fine," he growled, "then don't. But I'm not wasting good daylight."

He was tired of all this follow-the-leader bullshit. Gary Oak was not a team player, and he had never been one to start with. He had embarked on his pokemon journey alone – save for the occasional cheerleaders who trailed his footsteps – and he had made it to the top of the Indigo League alone. He wasn't very much worried about making this trek alone if need be.

"Gary," Brock hurried after him as he slung his now full pack over his shoulder and tossed aside the tent opening. Umbreon slinked after him closely, the rings on her pelt pulsating softly in the foggy darkness of the dawn. "Come on. It's safer together, don't be like this."

"Then tell her to get a move on," he pointed his finger accusingly towards the occupied tent. "I'm not waiting all day. The sun is coming up and it's the perfect time to move on towards the mountain. We can hit the base by dark and that's the best time we'll have to strike."

"Just think about it, okay?" He held out his hands in a pacifying gesture. "All of us are in more danger if you leave. It's important that we stick together."

The disagreement carried on for several minutes. Then without warning, Misty Waterflower emerged from the tent with her bag fully packed and a sour expression.

"Fine," she grabbed a fistful of tarp and with one tug pulled the entire structure to the ground. "You want to be in charge, Gary Oak? Then let's get going."

The redhead took off down the road, leaving Brock scrambling in the wake of the mess she had made. Gary felt compelled to leave the dissembled tent, but he knew that leaving traces of their path was a bad idea, and felt a little sympathy for the other man scrambling to pick everything up. Once the mess was packed away as well, the two had quickly caught up with Misty, who ignored them both.

As Gary had predicted they reached the base of the mountain around nightfall. The security was perhaps tighter than he had imagined. There were tall electrified fences around the perimeter, and there didn't appear to be an entry point, guarded or not. He supposed there wouldn't need to be one, if Mt. Silver was off limits to everyone from Kanto. As he had predicted though, there was a new guard patrolling the fence each time the last got too far down for him to see. Each carried a large, threatening looking gun, and a belt harnessed with pokeballs.

The little red and white objects glittered like gold in his sights. He could only imagine what kind of pokemon Team Galactic had equipped these soldiers with. They had to be tough enough to ward off any pokemon that strayed down from the mountain.

The wait was almost too much. Soon the sun had fallen completely, and the guards had all pulled out their heavy-duty flashlights to illuminate the darkness.

"Alright, Umbreon," he beckoned her close to him. He was hidden in a bush nearby, one eye on the target he had picked. The man looked to be about forty, from what he could tell with all of that armor and gear, and more importantly sported a belt of six pokeballs. Misty and Brock were positioned nearby on either side of him. Their jobs as humans were less important. Essentially they were to spot Umbreon - if any other guards caught sight of her, they were to fire. But the quieter they could keep the operation, the better. "Are you ready, girl?"

Umbreon's muscles shivered underneath her coat. He doubted it was from temperature.

In a flash, the pokemon was off. She vanished like mist into the night, only reappearing when she was closer to her target. While wild umbreon were known to run down prey if necessary, Gary had given strict orders to not be seen. At the last moment she emerged from the underbrush and hurried forward, diving onto the man's back and sinking her bite over the guard's throat. His short cry was cut off quickly and Gary prayed no one had heard the initial gasp. Checking for approaching guards, Gary rushed out of the bushes and knelt beside the unconscious man.

He had to be quick. Slinging his bag to the ground, he stuffed the six precious pokeballs inside first. Then he rummaged through the pockets, coming up with a few max potions – he thanked God for those – batteries for the flashlight and a wallet. The latter two items weren't immediately useful, but he pocketed them anyway. Then he threw the pack back over his shoulder and pried the gun from the man's grip, holding it in one hand and the flashlight, now turned off, in the other.

Now, for the hard part.

"Come on," he whispered to his starter, motioning for her to grab the man. She began to drag the body off into the bushes while Gary kicked dust over the small bloodstains on the ground. He didn't know how effective those would be in the daylight, but he had no other ideas and wasn't going to risk turning the flashlight back on.

Safely a few hundred feet away from the fence, the trio met up again. Without asking Misty dove into his backpack and pulled out the machines the three of them had been waiting for.

Pokeballs.

The redhead laid them in the grass, staring at them with wide blue eyes. All three of them knelt down to get a closer look, staring at them as if they had never before seen such technology. Misty's lips were parted in slight awe.

They were practically salivating over them.

Brock broke the stillness first. He reached forward and slowly rolled the closest two into his palms. Their breath hung heavily in the air, even Umbreon did not as much as squeak. With shaking hands he pressed the center button and rolled one ball off to the side.

When the red aura dissipated, there stood an egg-shaped pokemon supported by two lengthy stalks. He looked to stand about to Gary's shoulders, but while they knelt the pokemon stared down at all three of them. His three-fingered hands flexed and black beady eyes watched them warily.

_A hitmonlee,_ Gary thought to himself._ Fighting-type. But they're capable of a few rock-type moves…Brock must be happy about that._

Brock got to his feet, and the hitmonlee sprung back. It seemed to take almost no effort on the pokemon's part, but this simple bounce propelled him at least ten feet from the group. For a moment Gary feared that he would turn and dart into the woods, but when Brock bent his body in a deep bow, the other pokeball still grasped in his right hand, the fighting-type seemed to relax. He considered the action for a moment, and then merely nodded in response. Before anything else could take place, Brock scooped up the pokeball in his free hand and recalled the hitmonlee.

Gary hadn't realized it, but he had been holding his breath.

"What was that about?" Misty stammered. She was shaking.

"I have some experience with hitmonlees," The Pewter City Gym leader began shakily, running a hand through his hair. "They're a domesticated species, but they have a big sense of pride. Generations have been bred for the best fighting abilities in the ring, and it's like they know it. They probably do. Most of them are sort of a standoffish bunch, and I've seen Brenda use the whole bowing technique to show them that you respect them. It helps them listen to you."

Gary remembered his time in the Elite and how Bruno had used a hitmonlee back then. He had seen the two training together, hand-to-hand, which he had always found strange, but he had never seen the fighting-master bow to it. However he knew that particular hitmonlee had been Bruno's since before his time in the Elite, so perhaps he no longer had to display his respect.

"Who's Brenda?" Misty voiced a question that afterward seemed silly to Gary that it had not occurred to him.

"My fiancé," Brock answered simply, placing Hitmonlee's pokeball in his pocket. "The technique works for hitmonchans, too."

It was strange to finally know something more about Brock's fiancé other than the fact that she existed. He might have felt rude for having never even asked her name before, but given the circumstances he brushed it off. The exhilaration of having unveiled one pokemon now in their possession had him itching to see the rest of them.

"Come on," he egged on. "Toss out the next one."

"How about you, Misty?" Brock offered politely. The redhead seemed almost nervous as she got to her feet and tossed a ball into the air, casting a red glow onto the grass.

A testament to how vital it was that they not be discovered, even armed as they were, Misty did not scream. Instead, she dropped the other pokeball she held with fright and darted behind Gary before he could get his wits about him with a vice-grip on his shoulders. From their position with the Cerulean City Gym leader's face buried in his back, one might have gotten the impression that they actually got along.

"No, no, no – oh, God, why!" She whispered frantically, and when she began biting into his jacket to keep her voice down he started trying to pry her off of him. The pokeball had held a parasect – a dual grass-and-bug-type.

"It didn't even have to be a water-type," she begged some imaginary force. "But did it have to be a _bug_?"

Though he did not share the same deep-seated fear as Misty, he was watching the pokemon warily with an expression of less extreme disgust. The pokemon came up to about his chest, most of its body consisting of a plump mushroom growing tall on its back. Its body, from what he could see, bore two spindly legs on either side that seemed crushed with the weight of the parasitic mushroom growing on it and two much larger, imposing looking claws sprouting from the front. A pair of white, clouded over eyes suspended on stalks gave it a blind or possessed – and frankly creepy – look. Patches of the mushroom and its own skin were flaking off as it stood, and it emitted an unpleasant odor.

"You know, Misty," he started, grabbing at the woman's hands and trying to tear them from his shoulders. "Parasect mushrooms are a parasite growing on its body. By the time a paras evolves, the mushroom has taken over so much of the pokemon's functioning that it basically controls every aspect of the body. Parasect are, you know…zombies, essentially."

"Fuck off, Gary!" She cried quietly, almost drowned out by his stifled laughter. Slowly she crept from around him and recalled the creature into its ball.

"That's probably for the best," Brock commented. "We don't want Team Galactic smelling anything suspicious out here."

While Misty regained her composure and cursed the powers-that-be for her bad luck, Brock turned to Gary. Two pokeballs were still lying in the grass. Umbreon was watching him carefully as well, having made no vocal or physical commentary of any of the called forth pokemon so far. As he grabbed them both from their place, he couldn't help foolish thoughts from passing through his mind.

_What if these balls hold my old pokemon?_

No, that was ridiculous. That was years and years ago.

_But what if some Galactic grunt is walking around with my arcanine, or Blastoise –_

It wasn't going to be any of those pokemon, surely. Like his dodrio had been sniped dead in Viridian Forest all of those years ago, logic told him the remainder of his old team were gone as well.

_I wonder if Umbreon is thinking the same things._

He called out the first of his new pokemon. The first pokemon he could say he had owned, other than Umbreon, in years. Regardless of the illegal means, he still felt he had captured whatever was going to fly out of that ball.

Gary was nearly left speechless.

The beast before him stood easily a foot taller than he did. Its scaly body did little to hide the powerful muscles looming beneath, and a visible tooth projected from either side of its maw. Beady eyes stared him down narrowly and a foot-long horn protruded from its mid-forehead. With a snort, it stomped one hoof into to ground, kicking up dirt.

"A nidoking," he breathed. For a moment, he almost went so far as to think it _his_ nidoking. But he knew within moments of inspection that this was not the case. Umbreon seemed to make a similar error, as she raced forward a few steps and uttered a soft cry, to which the large male beast swung its horn in her direction and bellowed loudly.

Gary recalled the nidoking almost as soon as the sound left its mouth. Even with the creature confined, the call resonated in the air, causing them all to cringe.

"That was too loud," Brock shook his head forlornly.

"We'd better keep moving," Misty nodded, and the three hurried on from the sight. They left the body of the Galactic guard there, hoping he would be discovered in the morning and not before. Gary desperately itched to know what the other pokeball in his pocket held, but he knew now was not the time to experiment with it.

The plan was to hike a mile or so down the fence, and strike another guard before morning. Gary hadn't confessed this part of the plan yet, but he was hoping one of their stolen pokemon might be able to transport them over – or through – the fence somehow.

The second guard they struck went accordingly to plan as well. Though the attempt only yielded three pokeballs instead of six, Gary wasn't complaining. This left him with four capable – or in theory – pokemon to travel up the mountain with and his comrades with three. Not to mention the pistols, and the machine gun from either guard they carried.

Not that any of them knew how to use a machine gun, anyway.

"Do you think we could stop?" Misty suggested as they hid the second unconscious figure. Gary liked to think of them as unconscious, even though he was sure their bleeding throats would kill them by morning. He might have been ruthless in the design of his plan, but he would have preferred as little death as possible. "I want to see what's in the rest of these pokeballs."

"Good plan," he agreed, possibly for the first time since the trip started. He crossed his fingers that at least one of the unknown balls would hold a flying-type, or a pokemon large enough to somehow lift or propel them over. He knew Misty was praying for a water-type, but he didn't see how that would help them cross an electric fence.

As soon as she was poised to throw the ball a light lit up the scene. Misty spun on her heels and froze in the headlights. The sounds of shouts growing louder reached his ears.

They had been spotted.

"They know we're here!" Gary shouted. There was no reason to be quiet now, especially caught in the glow of an approaching headlight. "Quick, throw out your pokemon!"

All three of them looked frantic, digging through pockets and calling out pokemon madly. Umbreon stood at Gary's leg, back arched and hissing evilly. He wasn't sure whether to tell her to run for her life or to fight for theirs.

The car burst through the underbrush at the exact moment Gary's new nidoking emerged from his ball. With a roar the beast was hit by the vehicle, whose passengers and driver shrieked with surprise and terror. Enraged, the scaly creature seized the front of the car with both massive arms and began lifting it steadily into the air.

His second ball revealed something that set off a lightbulb in his head. How the hell had he ever been so lucky as to score an electrode?

"Misty, Brock!" He screamed over the sound of pokemon roaring and revving engines. "Towards the fence, go, go, go!"

When a gunshot sounded through the air Gary hit the ground. He hadn't been struck, but he wasn't going to let himself be next either. Next to the redheaded gym leader he noticed a golbat the same size as she was hovering about, flapping its membrane wings madly and screeching like it had come straight out of hell. Brock had managed to grapple free of the hold of a Galactic guard, whose gun had only been knocked out of his hands when he had pointed it at Hitmonlee. Umbreon raced ahead of him as he staggered to his feet and was calling out to the electrode, which followed after her only after a second gunshot resonated through the air. Hardly looking over his shoulder, he recalled nidoking and kept hard towards the fence, unwilling to stop and see just how many Galactics were following him. Misty and Brock were just behind, their new pokemon in tow. When they reached the tall electrified fence, Gary began shouting orders.

"Electrode!" He snapped, but the ball-like pokemon ignored him. Sparks were flecking the air around it agitatedly. "Come on, spark! Thunder! Anything!"

Electrode have a reputation for being ill-tempered. Nicknamed the "bomb ball", they are known to explode randomly or in reaction to even the smallest annoyance. While Gary Oak had been hoping to short-circuit the electric fence, the shouting of humans and pokemon alike seemed to have been more than enough stimuli for the electrode to handle.

The world went white, and Gary hardly registered movement until he felt the ground hit his back. He closed his eyes tight and held his forearms over his face until the blinding heat and static he felt seemed to ebb away, and he decided it was safe enough for him to look around.

The grass around had been burned away in a flash, and the soil beneath blackened where electrode had exploded. The pokemon itself was motionless, tipped to one side and entirely soot-covered. He looked around frantically, wiping dirt and debris from his face until he spotted Misty, getting to her feet unsteadily and recalling her golbat, while Brock was near Hitmonlee, both of them rising to their feet as well. Umbreon was nearby, having suffered the worst of the damage from the explosion, and was motionless.

"Umbreon!" He called, snapping his fingers for emphasis. When she did not stir, he felt bile rising in his throat.

_No, no –_

He had forgotten the problem at hand. In the time allotted during the explosion, the Galactic guards had caught up with them. All were poised several dozen feet away, guns at the ready.

"Attention," a short-haired female stood in the center of the lineup, holding a megaphone to her lips. Her outfit differed from the grunts in that the bottom formed a strange round skirt with leggings, still with spacesuit-like material instead of the usual pants. "This is Administrator Mars of Team Galactic speaking! As you likely know, Mt. Silver is _strictly_ off-limits," she growled, then sweetened up her voice, "even to the likes of the infamous Gary Oak! Yes, I see you down there, sweetheart!"

He cursed. They couldn't be caught now. They had come too far. They were so_ close._

"Gary," Misty cried, disregarding the Galactics. "Look, the fence!"

He did, and the sight nearly took his breath away. He hadn't noticed before, too concerned with making sure everyone had survived the blast. But the electrode's explosion had blown a path straight through the fence. Sparks were flying at the edges, but he was willing to take the risk of a slight shock.

He did the only thing he had left to do, and that was throw his last pokeball.

The Administrator Mars dropped her megaphone. All guns turned their attention from them to the enormous creature looming over the lineup.

A gyarados.

Gary scooped up Umbreon's limp form in his arms and booked it. He didn't bother recalling the electrode, he feared he had no time. Misty came racing hard after him and Hitmonlee took up the lead with Brock hurrying after it. Gary could hear the thunderous growls and cries of the gyarados and heard a flurry of human screams as it swept its massive tail across the lineup. The beast had to be more than twenty-five feet long - he was even willing to go as far as thirty.

When they had run far enough through the fence for him to feel safe in doing so, he recalled the massive creature and restored peace to the Galactic group behind them. Still clutching Umbreon to his chest, he took off into the base of the mountain.


	6. Sanity

**Disclaimer: Nope, still don't own Pokemon.**

* * *

The air had chilled considerably inside Mt. Silver. The ground was rocky and slippery with water, which poured loudly and freely from nearby waterfalls. A river punctuated the gray terrain, and large rock chunks hung from the ceiling like spears, threatening to fall and impale any unfortunate ground-dwelling victim.

Gary Oak laid his umbreon on a blanket and wrapped her securely inside it. The dark-type hadn't awoken yet, but she was breathing steadily. Her long ears were torn and punctured by debris from the explosion and the fur around her muzzle and forepaws was singed, but he had firm hopes that she would recover just fine naturally. They only had a few max potions stolen from the Galactic guards, and he wanted to keep those in his arsenal as long as he could. Only if her condition worsened, he had decided, would he definitely use one.

Meanwhile, Misty and Brock were tending to their own injured parties. Misty's golbat was looking to be in good condition apart from punctures in his wing membranes, which would impair his flying until they healed but would not otherwise hinder his health. Brock was offering bits of food to his hitmonlee, who was eyeing him warily and rubbing a sore calf. The scene reminded Gary of something he had been trying to put off.

"Hey," he signaled to the other human members of the team, who turned their attention on him briefly. "I'm letting out the nidoking. Be careful."

"Why?" Misty asked cautiously. He couldn't blame her. He wasn't exactly excited to see what kind of damage the giant beast had sustained while thrashing the Galactic vehicle. He probably wasn't going to be very amicable for it.

"I have to make sure he's not too badly hurt," he explained, removing the pokeball from his pocket. He made sure it was not the gyarados ball - the last thing he needed was a giant water-type raging through Mt. Silver and stirring up every dangerous creature around.

The scaly pokemon emerged surprisingly peacefully. He stayed still, but glared at Gary with distrustful and angry eyes, breathing heavily. Gary winced as he spotted the damage. Two bullet wounds, one through his left bicep and the other just grazing the same shoulder. Blood was caked around the impact sites and spittle flecked from the grunting creature's jaws to the floor.

He didn't have much of an idea how he was going to fix this.

"Brock," he began, not turning his attention from the nidoking at hand. "Do you think we should use a max potion on him?"

"How many do we have?"

"Four."

Brock considered it for a moment. He seemed unhappy about the idea.

"We really should try not to. I'd normally suggest cleaning the wounds with water and bandaging them – it looks like the bullets went all the way through – but…"

But given the circumstances, the pokemon in question was far too dangerous to waltz up to and start dressing in bandages and ointment.

Gary recalled his pokemon, unable to reach a consensus on what to do about his predicament. The most he could offer was lessened suffering inside of the pokeball and, hopefully, minimal combat.

So for the time being they were facing Mt. Silver with their own personal weapons, a handful of pokemon who were not familiar with them, and the one they could trust most unconscious.

"So…" Misty began, trailing off uncertainly. "What now?"

Gary realized she was directing the question at him, but before he could answer, Brock had removed his backpack and was seated on a rock.

"I'm feeling hungry, personally," the Pewter Gym leader interjected. "I'm sure the pokemon are, too. I could whip something simple up for us while we brainstorm?"

Gary didn't see anything wrong with that plan, but the three reached an agreement that they would not eat anything that required much cooking. The three of them were not as educated on the dangers lurking in Mt. Silver as Gary might have liked them to be, but they were all competent travelers. You didn't strike up a hot fire and start brewing delicious-smelling foods in a cave where wild pokemon were tuned into one thing only – detecting their next meal.

"You know," Brock mentioned through a mouthful of granola and yogurt. "We're going to have to make a fire eventually. There was no way we could have packed enough water to last us a trip up the mountain, and we're going to need to boil anything we want to drink here."

Gary nodded.

"Do either of you have any idea what kind of pokemon are in here, anyway?" He continued on, looking to his two companions for advice. Gary had done as much research as he had been able to manage before embarking on their trip, and so he was poised to answer when Misty surprised him by jumping in.

"Hopefully nothing like Cerulean Cave," she said absentmindedly, until she noticed Gary staring at her. "What?"

"Have you been inside Cerulean Cave?" He asked. It was a place that was familiar to him only somewhat. When he had been Champion, he would get frequent reports from the guards of Cerulean Cave, who were set there to keep the people out and the pokemon in. Sometimes he would receive notice of the occasional person slipping past the security system – but they were very rarely heard from again. He had been there once, in his very early days as Champion, but upon encountering a wild alakazam who shattered his ankle the second he let the thought of capturing cross his mind, he had decided that having the bragging rights to claim he had made it through Cerulean Cave wouldn't really so much matter if the journey killed him.

"Maybe," she smirked playfully, and it was the first time he had seen her look at him with an emotion other than exasperation or anger in a while. "No, of course not. But a long time ago a gyarados burst out of the cave and killed the guards, and being the gym leader and all, I had to help put it down. It was after you had stepped down from Champion."

Gary remembered that. It had made news. It was just before Team Galactic had implemented the zero pokemon tolerance laws, and it was a crisis that they had used to fuel their claim.

_Pokemon are dangerous, wild creatures! To even _think_ that we can tame such beasts! Only certified members of the government should be carrying such weapons of mass destruction, so that the public need never worry that they might be used for anything but the common good!_

"It was sad, really," she ended, her lips slipping into a slight frown. Gary snorted.

"Sad?" He raised an eyebrow. "You mean because of the people who died, right?"

"Well, obviously," she said, "but the gyarados too. He was enormous - had to be ancient. He had probably never been outside that cave, and definitely hadn't been in the past fifty years of his life. He probably hadn't even known there was a world outside the cave. And as soon as he's out, he's peppered with bullets and flash bombs and electric-types."

"I don't see how it's sad," Gary shrugged. "Gyarados aren't the most intelligent pokemon out there. Like he cared that he was stuck in a cave. He probably liked it in there, otherwise why would there be any of his species in there to begin with?"

"Gyarados are intelligent," Misty quipped, and he could see the lines darkening in her forehead.

"You might want to hope they are, at any rate, Gary." Brock interjected, clearly sensing the growing tension. "You've got one."

"They're not so bad, once you've worked with them," Misty went on. "They scared me at first, but I used to have one."

"You had a gyarados?"

"Yes," she answered shortly, "is that really so hard to believe? I had to be certified to own one, though."

"I know you have to be certified, " Gary rolled his eyes. "I was too at one point. I never used him much, though. Gramps liked to keep him at the lab."

Gary nearly jumped when he felt something press against his side, but when he turned his head he found Umbreon rubbing her dark-furred head against his ribcage. With a faint smile he patted her forehead.

"Feeling better, girl?"

With Umbreon awake, he felt a little better about spending their first night in the cave, but not by much. They erected a tent in a corner and left nothing outside of it, including themselves. Sparse holes in the cave walls had been allowing light in while the sun was up, but as soon as it fell the cave plummeted into absolute darkness. They couldn't have traveled even if they had wanted to.

Gary had fallen into an uneasy sleep with Umbreon at his side, and Brock and Misty to his back, when he was startled awake by a piercing scream. He jolted to his hands and knees around the same moment Brock bolted to a kneeling position and Misty slapped her hands over her mouth. Umbreon, hearing even more acute than the three of theirs, let out a threatened hissing sound and began to give off an agitated golden glow from the rings on her fur.

"No," Gary instructed her swiftly, "cut that out, no light."

He knew it was a natural reaction for any umbreon, but he couldn't take any chances. If anything was out there and it saw light through the thin layer of their tent, it might decide to come for them. Reluctantly his starter settled down, still alert and uneasy.

"What was that?" Misty whispered, rising to a kneeling position as well and keeping one hand firmly locked on the sleeve of Brock's jacket. The temperature fell considerably after dark, and the three of them had bundled up more to fall asleep than to travel.

"No idea," Brock replied, equally as quietly. The relative silence that had returned to the cave was suddenly punctuated a second time by just as deafening of a shriek. It certainly didn't sound human, and made Gary's skin crawl.

"I don't see why we have to find out," he murmured, pulling the blanket back over himself. "As long as whatever it is doesn't come for us, I don't care."

They didn't speak of the creature again for the rest of the night, but they did soundlessly agree to sleep a few inches closer than before.

The next day they began their ascent into the cave.

Mt. Silver's geography was mostly grassy cliffs externally, covered with snow farther up and slick cliffs and waterfalls on the inside. Their first obstacle was figuring out how exactly they were going to climb the mountainside before them, since swimming up the adjacent waterfall was out of the question. Misty and Brock had since checked their last pokeballs, containing a chansey for her and a dragonair and ninetails for him. Brock had seemed especially thrilled with his ninetails – apparently he had owned one before Team Galactic's takeover.

"Didn't you specialize in rock-types?" Gary had questioned.

"Yeah," Brock had confirmed as the rather docile-seeming ninetails had sniffed him curiously. "But I had always really wanted to become a breeder."

Gary knew his gyarados could easily send them up the waterfall, but he didn't trust the thing not to devour them in the process. He planned on keeping that particular member of his party as a sort of trump card. Brock's dragonair was also capable of hauling them up the waterfall one by one, but dragon-types were notoriously difficult. They possessed an intelligence only surpassed by psychic-types – it was something you could see in their eyes. Brock had released his dragonair only once yet, and the creature had stared them each down in turn, including Umbreon, as if he were sizing them up. Gary was fairly convinced if one of them tried to sit on the back of that thing, they would be bleeding out into the rocks fairly quickly.

So there they were, preparing to climb up the dry mountainside of the waterfall instead. The rocks were still slick with spray from the falls, but they didn't have much of a choice, and the rocks were so thick and jagged that Gary felt they wouldn't have much trouble finding hold.

"Ready, guys?" Brock began, bringing his palm to the first of many rock holds. Gary followed suit, but Misty hung back for a short moment.

"What's up, Misty?" Brock inquired casually. Gary was noticing the tension that had existed between them had ebbed away recently. He wondered if years of separation could truly be repaired so easily.

_Will it be like that if we find - ?_

"Nothing," Misty answered, joining them. "Never mind."

Gary could have pressed the issue, but he didn't care to. Brock seemed willing to let whatever Misty had been caught up about go, and the three of them carefully began to ascend the incline. At times like this, Gary wished he still had a pokeball for Umbreon. He would much rather have her traveling safely in his pocket than traversing the mountain side with them, but he knew that she was more than capable. Though she was not built for the terrain, she was faring just as well as any of them until about halfway up the incline, when something startled all four of them.

Similar to the night before, a scream cut through the sounds of water crashing over rocks. Only this time, it was so close, so mind-blowingly loud that Gary nearly jumped out of his skin, and lost his hold on the rocks. Time seemed to move slowly as he watched his fingers frantically grasp for better leverage, but his descent down the side had already begun, and he let out a cry as his side hit the jagged rocks and he rolled several yards more before coming to an unsteady halt, facing down the slope, bloody palms keeping him stationary by pressing against a large boulder in his path of descent. His head didn't ache – yet, at least – and he was thankful he hadn't hit his skull on anything too large. Brock and Misty were both still at their respective positions calling down to him, but he hardly noticed anything but the shape now floating before him.

The creature was a deep purple, lightening to a violet around the edges of its ghostly form. Its body was not that of any physical being, but looked somewhat like a cloak and melted away into the air. Its eyes glowed a radiant yellow-orange and several gleaming jewels decorated its chest. It was around three feet tall, but felt far more imposing in his vulnerable position.

A mismagius.

Gary knew a bit about mismagius. They were ghost-types, and like many of their type, enjoyed tormenting their victims. Its pre-evolution was well-known to feed on fear, making it a difficult pokemon to raise – how do you feed something that requires the fear of others to eat? Was there a moral conflict with keeping them? But no matter. He was aware of the abilities of mismagius, if only the basics. They enjoyed screaming to terrify those around them, particularly in the night. He assumed that was what they had been hearing lately. They would hum incantations that were capable of inducing painful headaches or even causing hallucinations. They could warp the environment around them if they were strong enough, or create doubles of themselves –

Which was around the time Gary noticed that they were not in the company of only one mismagius.

The mismagius had split into three before him now, and as the shapes began to shift and float before him he was no longer sure which was the original. He began trying carefully to reposition himself upwards on the incline, but when one of the copies split its face into a gruesome, toothy smile and came rushing at him, he knew he had no time to defend himself.

The air before him exploded into a ball of dark energy and he buried his head in the rocks to protect himself. When the blast cleared only one mismagius still floated, and it giggled nervously before its smile vanished and it followed suit, disappearing into the shadows. Gary righted himself carefully and turned over his shoulder to find Umbreon bristling angrily, her rings glowing fluorescent and her teeth bared.

"Nice work," he managed, breathing hard. Mismagius were ghost-types, weak against dark-types. Of course the mismagius would flee when presented with an attacking umbreon.

"Gary!" He realized Brock and Misty were still calling down to him, but they sounded closer and when he turned over his shoulder, he found them descending down the cliff for him. He hurried to catch up, not wanting to lose any more ground than he already had, and when they reached the top of the mountainside and hauled themselves onto flat, stable ground, he was shocked to find it was Misty who approached him first.

"Are you alright?" She began, gripping him by either sleeve. "We thought that thing was going to -!"

"I'm fine," he cut her off uncomfortably. "My hands are torn up from the rocks, but it's all superficial."

"You're an idiot," she shook him a few times before stomping off, gripping her own sides tightly. "I can't believe this."

Gary didn't get it. The worst injuries he had to speak of were cut up palms, and Umbreon had been there to protect him, so what was the big deal?

"We're going to see bigger and more dangerous things than a mismagius in this mountain," he sent after her. "Get used to it."

She ignored him. Brock walked over and handed him a few bandages out of his pack, but Gary rejected them. His hands were _fine_.

"Don't worry about Misty," Brock began.

"I wasn't."

Brock ignored his rather rude retort. "She's just frustrated. If she had even one of the pokemon she used to own, we would have been able to swim up the waterfall no problem. It's hard for her to deal with."

Gary snorted. Like it wasn't hard for everyone. Brock had specialized in rock-types, no doubt he would have had something that could have propelled them up the mountain without issue. Even he had kept pokemon that could have helped them, anything from his blastoise to his pidgeot would have done the trick.

Misty continued ignoring him until night fell upon the cave once more, and the trio bundled in for the night. In their jackets and group blanket, they were once again clustered in a tight foursome of themselves and Umbreon, with only the illusion of safety that the tent provided. Gary thought that perhaps he would be able to steal a full night's sleep, without the disruption of screaming ghost-types.

He was wrong.

Though no member of the party kept a watch on them, it was just past two in the morning when Brock Harrison jolted out of his sleep suddenly. His shift in movement disturbed the peacefully dozing Gary and Misty on either side, both of whom began mumbling angrily.

"What the hell?" Gary rubbed at one eye, trying to remain as covered by the blanket as possible while Brock got to his feet.

"Brock, go to bed," Misty whined, bringing her hands to cover her face.

The Pewter City Gym leader did no such thing, and instead paced outside the tent for a few moments. Gary largely ignored him in his half-asleep state, but did wonder vaguely what the man could possibly be doing in the pitch darkness.

The next few nights were the same. Brock would startle everyone awake and pace outside the tent until he felt satisfied, in the morning explaining the "noises" he claimed he had heard. Umbreon would follow him outside, keeping a close tail on him, and Gary would hear her hiss every now and then as if she heard them too. Yet Gary nor Misty ever heard anything out of the ordinary themselves. The two shared a silent agreement that they would not press the issue, and if pacing outside the tent every night was what Brock needed to do to feel safe, or clear his head, or whatever he might have been up to, then they weren't going to put in any energy to stop him.

Their first night on the side of the mountain, outside of the actual cave, was something Gary found refreshing. Real gusts of wind hitting his face, however bitterly cold, and grass beneath his shoes instead of slick rock. Plus, the outer area provided a nice view of just how far up the mountain they had come, which was pretty considerable.

"We've made a lot of progress," Brock pointed out as they set up camp for the night.

"Yeah," Misty pointed out, "but we haven't found anything."

Gary shared her concerns, for once. They weren't here to cross "climb Mt. Silver" off their bucket lists. If they didn't find anything here, their journey had been for nothing.

When Brock rose on that particular night, Gary was so used to it he hardly stirred. He continued dozing right on through the other man's usual exit and even when Misty unexpectedly got up to join him. It wasn't until he realized the noises outside were growing frantic that he propped himself up onto his elbows and found even Umbreon standing stiffly, ears pricked, alert.

"Gary? _Gary!_"

With that he clamored to his feet and stumbled out the tent opening, expecting a savage wild pokemon at the least. What he did not expect was to see Misty Waterflower, shrieking his name at the top of her lungs, holding onto Brock Harrison by the elbows and digging her tennis shoes into the ground as he attempted to throw himself off the side of Mt. Silver.

"Brock!" Gary burst, sprinting over and grabbing onto him. With a heave the two pulled the man to the ground and subdued his struggling form only a few feet from the ledge of the mountain. He was panting hard and sweating, as if he had been running a marathon. Umbreon was dancing around the group, fur raised and occasionally stopping to arch her back and hiss. With a wild expression he grabbed onto Gary's collar and pulled him in, surprising Gary with his firm strength.

"Let me up," he gasped, calm as ever, as if the entire thing were some misunderstanding. He almost believed for a second that it might be, but as Brock continued he realized this could not be the case. "I wasn't doing anything, she's down there, can't you see her?"

"Who?" Misty demanded, gesturing with open palms. "There's nobody down there, Brock, it's a cliff side!"

"You didn't see her?" Brock exclaimed. "Go, go look! You'll see her right there – Brenda! I've been hearing her for nights now, it's about time we've finally run into her!"

Gary shared a quick look of increasing panic with Misty and tried to quell the feeling of rising bile in his throat. So one-third of their group may or may not have lost their mind, seeing their fiancé who was certainly not spending a night on the edge of Mt. Silver with them with complete certainty.

"B-Brock," Misty began unsteadily. "You're tired. Really tired. Come back to the tent with us."

"I just want to see her," he explained, trying once again to get to his feet before they tightened their grips. "Come on, Misty, you understand, don't you? I won't take long, I just want to make sure she's doing alright by herself – Forrest said he'd check up on her, but he's running the gym and everything else while I'm gone and –"

Amazingly, their luck peaked and Brock eventually talked himself into a doze. Gary and Misty moved him as carefully as possible back to the tent where he nodded off entirely to sleep. For a few minutes all Gary could do was sit beside the sleeping man and stare with worried eyes, occasionally glancing up at the redheaded woman across from him.

"Do you think he'll be…alright in the morning?" She whispered, nearly syncing the words with her lips. Gary didn't answer. How was he supposed to have an answer?

Misty got to her feet quietly and made a swift exit. Gary thought twice about chasing after her, but after a moment's deliberation he sighed heavily and followed suit. He found her staring over the ledge.

"What are you doing?" He asked, and she jumped slightly. Had she not realized he had come after her?

"I just had to look," she explained quickly. "I had to make sure nothing was there."

Had he not been as shaken as she by Brock's behavior, he might have made fun of her for bothering to look for a woman they knew perfectly well was residing in Pewter City on the side of a desolate mountain. But he_ was_ shaken. And in the faint glow of the moonlight, he realized he had chosen to rest his eyes on the outline of Misty's figure, her back still towards him, still staring out over the ledge.

"I'm going back to the tent," he began, "I'm freezing my ass off out here."

Cursing felt good, felt necessary, to derail the seriousness of the situation. He thought it might distract him from his own wayward thoughts as well, but instead he found it was really not his own ass that he was thinking about, and he certainly wasn't freezing, and in fact he was hardly that cold in the slightest.

Nonetheless he returned to the tent and tried to clear his head and drift back into sleep.

_Maybe she'd be good looking, if she weren't such an annoying bitch._


	7. Tough to Swallow

Reviews, criticism, suggestions, comments - all are super appreciated! Please share!

**Disclaimer****: I still don't own Pokemon.**

* * *

"Feeling better, Brock?"

Misty was the first to approach the subject. Morning had risen upon Mt. Silver and Gary was anxious to trek back into the interior. At least there, there would be fewer sheer cliff sides for him to worry about finding Brock hovering over.

"Yeah, fine." Brock replied, looking puzzled. "I haven't been feeling too bad. Do I look it or something?"

Gary exchanged a look with his redheaded travel partner. Did the other man not know what she was referring to?

Whether or not their third companion was still sane, at least Gary could be thankful that there was no moonlight left in the day to cast that glow over Misty, turning Cerulean City's leader into some ghostly fantasy. Maybe Brock wasn't the only one losing touch with reality.

"Last night," Gary added, but it didn't seem to jog any memories, judging by the man's expression. "Don't you remember?"

"Seeing Brenda?" He questioned calmly, as if he had merely spotted her at the town market. "You guys should have let me go. I know you were worried, but we could have all gone together if that had made you feel better about it."

Gary wanted to widen his eyes, maybe get to his feet, perhaps even run thousands of miles in the opposite direction...but he did none of those things.

"Oh." Misty managed, and in their situation Gary considered it practically an intelligent paragraph of a reply.

That settled it. Brock had lost his marbles.

The sane pair let the matter drop, too shaken to argue on it. Before moving further into the mountain they agreed to get some training in, and while Gary and Misty sparred Brock insisted on working one-on-one with Hitmonlee.

No one tried to convince him to join in.

"Golbat, dodge it!"

Umbreon's quick attack struck anyway, raising a screech from Misty's golbat. Inside Mt. Silver, the sound might have raised the hairs on the back of his neck, sending prickles of fear down his spine that they might catch the eye or ear of something predatory. Out on the ledge, however, he felt the need to practice, and it could be the only place to try. At least the sound dissipated in the air, instead of reverberating off the walls of the caverns inside.

"You should give one of the others a try," Misty advised him, recalling her weary golbat, readying to replace him. "Umbreon is used to you. Using her isn't doing you any good."

"Easy for you to say," he replied. "Do you really want me working with that gyarados out here? He's a monster, and the nidoking is still injured."

Guilt nagged at him for leaving Nidoking to tough out his gunshot wounds in his ball, but he knew of no other alternative.

"You could always give _me_ your gyarados…"

"Fat chance. He's my wild card."

"_Our_ wild card. As a team."

"Whatever. He'll come in handy. Besides," he snorted, "you're one to talk. I haven't seen Parasect out lately – or wait, at _all_ since you first laid eyes on him."

Misty's face visibly greened.

"Come on, just trade me, please?" She held out the bug-type's pokeball from her pocket with two fingers, like she were holding a piece of trash. "I'll even take Nidoking for this thing. Hell, consider it a gift."

"Grow some balls, Misty," he laughed, causing the redhead to stamp her foot.

"Excuse me?" She cried. "I'll show you who has balls around here, Gary Oak!"

In a flash of red, the parasect materialized, stench radiating and blank eyes staring mindlessly. Misty seemed red-hot with anger, and Gary smirked snidely.

"Kiss it, then."

"What?"

"You think standing there looking at it proves you're tough shit?" He raised an eyebrow. "You heard me."

"That's so not even safe!" She exclaimed.

"Scared."

Of course Gary knew it wasn't safe. Who put their lips on pokemon they weren't familiar with? Hell, who put their lips on a parasect of _any_ kind?

"Please," she huffed, stomping a few feet closer, "how old are you anyway, four?"

She seemed to think better of the stomping and began to approach more quietly, face contorted with growing disgust and hands balled into fists. Then, in a single swift movement, she wrenched her eyes shut and swooped in behind the parasect, landing a peck on the back of the stout mushroom.

The parasect, which had sat motionless and silent, as if not even alive, chose that moment to stir up a chilling humming noise and unleash hundreds of chemical spores.

Gary stumbled back frantically and clamped his hands over his face. Misty mirrored his actions, but being much closer she was soon engulfed in tiny golden spores. They clung to her clothing like glue and he could hear her coughing beneath the shield of her hand. When an unexpected low kick from Hitmonlee struck the parasect, it flattened itself to the ground, disappearing beneath the mushroom upon its back like a shell.

"What are you doing?" Brock rushed over as the spores cleared, littering the ground now instead of the air. He grabbed hold of Misty and dragged her form closer.

The woman was laying face-up, knees slightly bent and one hand still cupped over her mouth and nose while the other gripped the fabric at her chest. She didn't so much as budge.

"Recall the parasect!" Brock demanded, kneeling next to her and trying to pry her frozen fingers from her mouth. Gary dipped down to sift the pokeballs from her pockets and sent the bug-type vanishing within the empty one's confines.

_Fuck._

They should have known better. He should have known better. He _did_ know better. He shouldn't have taunted her. So what, she was afraid of bug-types? He could think of a few pokemon he was less than fond of. Why did he have to make a challenge out of it? He knew she was competitive, why would he threaten her life with touching a pokemon which wasn't familiar with her?

"My God, Gary," Brock burst, "help me out."

Snapping out of his reverie, Gary knelt.

"Move her hands out of the way," he commanded, "I can't get them to stay put anywhere else."

He grasped her hands without any argument. Her slender fingers were stiff as steel, and the naked nails of her right hand took some work to wrestle from their grip on her jacket. A cool sense of calm began crept over him as Brock performed CPR. Umbreon sniffed nervously around the woman's legs, and Hitmonlee stood in the distance, ever watchful. When Misty sputtered a breath on her own, Gary sighed.

But still she did not stir. Her eyes, locked wide open, stared straight ahead, and when he released her hands they fell naturally back to where he had pried them from. She could breathe – for now – but she would not move.

"So how awkward was that?" Gary snorted, offering to break the worried tension filling the air. He gestured to Misty's lips.

If looks could kill, Gary would have dropped dead.

"Maybe it would have been," the other man practically spit, "if she weren't in danger of dying."

Brock got up and gathered Misty in his arms, where her stiff body did not mold to fit him.

"Try a little compassion sometime, Gary."

He carried her back to the tent and left him in the company of Umbreon alone.

* * *

They did not move on, even well into the next day. Brock did not stir all night either, except to check Misty's airways, but Umbreon continued to growl at nothing, and the midnight screams of distant mismagius picked up again. Brock looked physically sick with worry, and Gary was beginning to doubt the insanity that he had pegged him with. He seemed perfectly level-headed now, even if distraught.

"Hungry?"

Gary settled beside the Pewter City leader and accepted a thin sandwich. His stomach groaned at the sight of it. He was growing tired of snacks substituting as meals.

He thought of Misty, who had not eaten since the previous day's incident. They could not figure out how she would be able to.

"You handled that really well yesterday," Gary offered, trying to avoid another meal silent with anger.

Brock nodded, and for a moment Gary wondered if that was all he would get. "It's not the first time I've had to deal with a bad stun spore."

Gary nodded as well. He knew too well the effects those spores could have, but usually it had been his pokemon on the receiving end.

"That's how Galactic got Pewter."

"Really?" Gary inquired. He was curious. For all that gym leaders could probably share in common in post-Galactic Kanto, he had never asked for the grimy details of how the other cities had fallen, nor shared his own with them.

"Uh-huh. They told me I could turn over my pokemon and side with them, and make things easier for my city, or they had a big surprise arranged for me."

Gary waited.

"I almost agreed. I had a fiancé and nine younger siblings to worry about –"

Gary tried not to visibly balk at that number.

"- not to mention a city full of people. I really didn't want to know whatever it was Galactic had planned for me. But I would have had to hand over my pokemon, and they were my friends too. Just like I had a responsibility to my family and the people of my city, didn't I have one to them?"

Gary could relate. He wanted to urge to him to go on, but it seemed that he was ready to tell his story without prompting.

"I had a lot of rock-types, I always had, but I was closest to my ninetails. A breeder gave her to me. She was, I guess you could say, from a long line of…_'top-quality'_ of her species. She didn't like me too much as a young vulpix," he chuckled. "But that's not the point. I called her out one day before Galactic were due to return. I explained everything to her, just like I were explaining it to you or any other human. They say many rock-types aren't that smart – and I'm not sure I agree with that – but it's a fact that ninetails are intelligent. She was sharp.

She just stared at me. Didn't budge an inch. They say if you betray a ninetails, they lay a curse on you. There's probably no science to back that up, but it's supposed to follow your descendants for the next nine-thousand years."

Despite being a firm non-believer in superstition, Gary humored him.

"So what did you pick?" He pressed. "Team Galactic's present or the nine-thousand year curse?"

"I told her to be ready to fight. When they arrived in gas masks, those were my first red flag. But I couldn't change my mind – I had given her my word."

"Do you think she really realized that?" He had to ask. "That you had given her your word."

"Yes," he nodded once, sure of himself. "Ninetails are highly intelligent. I've seen them express empathy and hold grudges. She understood me."

Gary let him go on.

"Galactic knew my gym specialized in rock-types. They showed up with a hoard of grass-types with them. But I thought we could handle it. If the entire city stood together, I was sure we could handle it.

But they had butterfree too. An entire swarm. I swear the sky went dark with them. They all unleashed their stun spores at the same time – people were running left and right trying to take shelter before the spores reached them. It didn't matter if we had managed to shoot down every butterfree in the sky after they released them, the chemicals were out there and they were going to hit us anyway.

It was over. Galactic took Pewter, and they took every pokemon any citizen had, and killed the ones they couldn't handle."

"So they took your ninetails," he finished, but Brock shook his head.

"No. They shot her eventually. She was burning up too many grass-types for their liking, and they couldn't subdue her." He shook his head slightly and ran a hand through his hair. "Sorry, I've kind of made this story about her when that's not what it was supposed to be. The point is, plenty of people ended up badly paralyzed. The hospitals were flooded. My little sister Suzie was one of them. When you're paralyzed badly you run a lot of risks. You might have inhaled so many spores that your lungs can stiffen up. Your tongue can can freeze in a bad spot and you might choke on it. If your mouth is shut, you might not be able to get in any water."

He got to his feet abruptly.

"I'd better get Misty something to drink, speaking of," he explained.

"Wait," Gary turned over his shoulder. "Your sister ended up alright, didn't she?"

"Yeah," Brock nodded, frowning. "But for what?"

* * *

For days, Misty Waterflower couldn't speak a word, nor could she eat. Her skin, already light in complexion, grew paler than looked healthy, and grayed under her eyes. Gary and Brock took each attempt to spoon her water as a team effort, as she had to be upright for the process. Her stiff body would not mold at all to their convenience, and so it took two people to support her and get the entire process completed. A few days had passed, and the three of them still camped out on the very same ledge, when they raised her to find her arms drooped slightly with gravity.

"Did you see that?" Gary thought perhaps he might be the one losing it now, but Brock nodded.

"It's wearing off," the Pewter leader couldn't fight the grin splitting his face. "Hear that, Misty? You'll be better in no time."

It was strange to think the redhead was conscious throughout everything. They had closed her eyeslids – a creepy process for anyone – to spare her eyes the discomfort of drying out with the inability to blink, but of course it was only her body that was paralyzed. Mentally, Misty was aware, even if she could not make any such motion to prove it.

He couldn't imagine, really, being trapped motionless for days, entirely aware of your surroundings.

Having been essentially alone with Brock for the past few days, Gary had gotten to know him better. He had actually learned a few things about the mysterious Brenda, whose last name was Duffey and who had specialized in fighting-types. He learned that she stood 5'7 and most often wore her hair braided, and that she had started off with a hitmonchan who had been raised and given to her by her father. She had gone to college with a major in Pokemon Nutrition, but had dropped out for some obscure reason that Brock had refused to clarify on. Gary had tried asking what bra size she wore as (mostly) a joke, but he had received nothing more than a swift punch to the arm. The more Brock indulged about her, the more he seemed to want to tell, and Gary couldn't remember the last time he had heard someone talk so emphatically about anything to him.

Frankly, it bothered him a little bit.

It didn't take eyes to see that his companion was infatuated with the woman. When was the last time he had felt that way about anybody? Had he ever? He couldn't say the same about one-night-stands, but he could count the number of women he had dated on one hand, and each relationship had ended the same way – with him walking out.

He just hadn't cared about any of them.

Surprisingly, she wasn't all Brock gushed about. Gary had nearly all of the older man's siblings name's memorized, and had them set to imaginary faces that had materialized in his mind based on Brock's descriptions. He knew that Forrest, the oldest of them, desperately wanted Brock's place as gym leader, even if it didn't hold much of the prestige it used to. He knew that Tilly had recently fractured her arm after she and her twin had tried – and failed – to scale the side of the Galactic Police Station of Pewter. Yolanda, who fell somewhere in the middle of the pack, was obsessing over her boyfriend, which Brock spoke of with particular disdain.

"I kind of feel like I'm to blame for it sometimes," he ranted, "her father's never around and I tried to fill his shoes, and now_ I'm_ never around. The other boys aren't any help, Forrest is always picking on her…you know?"

But Gary didn't know. He was the baby to his sister, and had never gotten involved in her love life even just in passing. Sure, he knew about deadbeat dads, and part of him wanted to ask if Brock and his siblings all shared the same father with the way he referred to Yolanda's. But even with the progress he had made the past few days, it still seemed like too much to ask about. He was already surprised that Brock bothered to talk with him about his family at all.

All of Brock's disclosing made him particularly uncomfortable when the conversation was turned around on him. Half because he wasn't one to lay out everything on the table, and half because it made him realize he didn't have much to lay out anyway that didn't involve his – former – career.

"You don't talk about yourself much," Brock noted while washing clean one of their few bowls with a damp rag. "Especially for someone I always thought was a little…"

Egotistical. Self-centered. Gary could fill in the blank, but he left it alone, because he got the vibe that Brock was not trying to insult him.

"There's not much to talk about," he shrugged, leaning back on his hands. "I have a sister, but we're not really close."

Or at least, anymore they were not. Gary had remnants of hazy memories where his sister had stroked his hair and consoled him during his latest breakdown about their absent parents. But he had been young then, very young, and those outbursts had lessened until they died out entirely with age.

"What happened?"

"Nothing," he explained, shrugging. "Time."

Brock let the matter drop.

"I'm not crazy, you know," he changed the subject suddenly with a sly smile. "If you were still worried about it."

"I've never called you crazy."

"No," the other man admitted, "but you thought it. Misty, too. I know it couldn't have been Brenda over the ledge. But I did see her."

Gary didn't reply. He believed the Pewter leader – but he wasn't sure what that said about his companion's state of mind. If you knew what you were seeing was impossible, but you were still seeing it, did that make you sane? Or just aware of how far off the deep end you had flown?

That night, Brock's headaches returned. Umbreon refused to come inside, instead pacing the outside of the tent and hissing. Brock did not stir to search for his fiancé, and for that Gary was glad, but he did wake suddenly in a cold sweat once, panicking that he had seen one of his sisters in the tent with them.

They had killed nearly a week's time on the ledge alone. Gary was itching to go, but he knew they could not press on without Misty healthy again – and it was his fault that they were in the predicament to start with, though he could barely admit it to himself apart from the sporadic guilt trips he put himself through. So when she began making steady improvements, he was ecstatic. One day, she twitched her fingers repeatedly throughout the morning. The next she coughed. Finally, after what seemed like years of complete silence from the redhead, she astounded him by rolling her head to the side and muttering a sloppy, 'go t' hell'.

Gary had tried ignoring her presence as much as possible while she had been paralyzed unless he were helping her somehow, since the sight of her so helpless bothered him deeply in a way he wasn't used to feeling. But as her vocabulary gradually expanded, he realized he could no longer pretend that she had not or would not notice his behavior.

"Jackass," she spit at him when he walked in to find Brock helping her to her feet. Her arm slumped naturally around the man's shoulders, but her legs still protested her commands. "Never say that about me again. Ever."

She refused to so much as look at him, until he delivered a speech to her on how she did have balls, huge ones in fact, and that he was a moron for insinuating otherwise. He couldn't remember the last time he had apologized for anything to anybody. She responded by persuading him to add that he owed her basically forever, and threatened to throw his clothing over the side of the mountain while he bathed if he disagreed. He didn't want to put it past her. Still, he could not help but give her a hard time by adding that she owed him for helping her using the damn bathroom while she had been unable to move, and she showed him how much better she was feeling by slugging him hard in the shoulder.

"God, I'm starving," she groaned, inhaling her untouched rations from the days passed. "I probably look terrible. My eyes aren't all sunken in, are they? It's so creepy when that happens to people. Do I have bags under my eyes now?"

"No, Misty," Brock fibbed. Luckily there were no mirrors to be found on Mt. Silver.

"I've probably lost an entire cup-size," she whined, to which Gary chuckled slyly.

"You can't get much smaller than an A-cup."

She screamed in outrage and called him a pervert.

As strong as Misty appeared to be holding up post-paralysis, Gary knew she was still suffering side-effects. She would wake up with coughing fits, which Brock explained often happened for the following few weeks after paralysis as her lungs tried to shake loose any clinging spores. After only an hour or so of travel, she would be ready to settle in for a full eight hours of sleep. But at least they were moving again, and at least Misty had recovered enough to regain even unstable mobility.

Though she was now more sworn off that parasect than ever.

Back into the swing of traveling, they were creeping through the upper internal levels of the mountain when they first heard it. The ground began to shake below their feet, and a few stalactites fell from the roof of the cavern in the distance.

"Are earthquakes common in Mt. Silver?" Misty asked. The quaking wasn't violent – Gary was sure it would pass.

"Maybe," he shrugged, unconcerned.

Then it hit.

The ground beneath them shook even harder, knocking Misty to her side. Then to the left, in a crater in the rocks, a giant solid mass began to shift free of the ground. A cavernous mouth beholding block-like steel teeth fought its way from the debris, ingesting chunks on the way. Finally, with most of its massive head free, the beast launched itself from the ground and arched upward, revealing a scaly underbelly and lower jaw. The rest of its form was covered in shining steel-like rock, jutting patterns haphazardly off of its frame.

"Steelix," Brock breathed.

The creature was massive, easily sizing up Gary's gyarados. It held the position for a moment, raised almost majestically, before it spiraled down into the earth and sent rock spraying up around it, shaking the ground. Gary shielded his face from the flying debris.

"What's it doing?" Misty cried.

"Feeding," Brock explained, helping her to her feet. "It's eating the rock in the mountain."

But when the steelix reemerged, it was far too close for Gary's comfort. In fact, it shot up through the ground just thirty or so feet in front of them, sending boulders crashing their way.

"Duck!" Brock fell to the ground, shouldering Misty with him.

"Shouldn't we call out our pokemon?" Gary dropped as well, dodging a fair-sized rock by inches and hugging Umbreon to his side, where she hissed and pinned her ears back. He had to shout to be heard over the roar of steel scraping through mountain.

"No!" Brock held out a hand urgently. "Steelix are very –!"

But when Gary realized a massive boulder loomed just a few dozen feet above his partner's heads, he tuned out of Brock's warning and grasped a pokeball from his pocket. Certain nidoking would be able to catch the rock – or more cruelly, take the blow in place of Brock and Misty – he let the ball fly.

What emerged was not what he expected.

The boulder certainly did change course, but not due to the catch of a formidable poison-type. In fact, every rock around it also fell to the side as the giant form of Gyarados materialized in the cavern. For a second, the entire mountain seemed still, as the steelix lie underground and the massive dragon-like beast exhaled, sending a spray of mist down towards the earth. It balanced on a thick scaly tail while the rest of its body wound upward and came to a crescendo at its gaping jaws which dripped with drool.

He couldn't believe it. He had thrown the wrong ball.

"Gary," Brock whispered frantically, eyeing up the back of the massive water-type. "Call it back. Call it back now. Steelix are incredibly –"

A metallic scream ripped through the air, Umbreon scrunching to the ground beside him and pinning her ears back fully. With a force that shook the cave, the steelix emerged before Gary's gyarados, a territorial fire in its eyes. The two titans locked eyes for a moment before Gary's pokemon let out a wild roar and lunged with its huge fangs.

"-_ aggressive!_"

The steelix lunged at its opponent, sinking its teeth into the scales of the sea serpent. But its squared-off teeth were for crunching rock, and a gyarados' scales hard enough to fend off attacks from the likes of its own kind – likely the most fearsome thing a wild gyarados would encounter in the open ocean. Though they left thick crags in the blue scales, no blood was drawn. The gyarados summoned up the water from the nearby waterfalls and thin rivers in a joined wave, looming over the entire cavern and Gary dipped his head and plugged his nose as the beast sent it crashing down on the steelix, dragging the edges of its power across where the gripped the rocks for safety. Its force dragged him a few feet before he came to a stop, wiping his eyes free of water and panting for breath. The steelix let out a wild cry as the water struck it, a scream as if it were the creatures last, and fell to the ground with a tremendous rumble.

"We've got to get out of here!" Brock cried over the quaking earth, rising to his feet unsteadily. Misty joined him, gripping his arm firmly. Umbreon looked over at him with wild eyes and scrambled to join the other two, looking to be in solid agreement that they needed to bail immediately. Gary grabbed the pokeball he had tossed Gyarados free of and got to his feet to rush over and join them when he noticed the increasingly horrified looks on their faces.

When he turned, he found himself staring down the slimy gut of a hot-breathed beast – _his_ hot-breathed beast. Its fangs stood at least the height of half his body, and at the back of its throat a burning glow was growing.

_Oh my God,_ he thought frantically, his grip on the ball tight. _Hyper beam._

Before he could react it swallowed him whole.


	8. Where There is Smoke

This chapter is a bit shorter than the rest of them have been, but it won't be something I make a habit out of.

**Disclaimer: I don't own Pokemon.**

* * *

He had certainly, even in a post-Galactic world, never pictured himself clinging to the slimy tongue of a gyarados as his last lifeline. The stench would have been nearly unbearable, if he were to have focused on it at all, and the heat only grew as the shimmering light behind him did. He knew that to fire off a hyper beam the beast would have to open its mouth once more, but by then he could expect death by burning inferno as the attack finished him off on the way out.

He tossed the empty pokeball as a last resort and closed his eyes tightly.

The next minute he was slamming into the cave floor, gasping for precious air. His eyes were wide and wild, and when Umbreon raced up beside him he flinched initially, surprised by her sudden appearance.

"I-It's okay," he stammered, bringing a hand damp with drool to her head and patting it anyway. "I handled it."

Misty and Brock ran up beside him next, the other man helping him into a sitting position. Misty had one hand covering her mouth, and he couldn't tell if it was out of shock, fear, or perhaps disgust that he was head-to-toe slick with gyarados saliva.

"My God, Gary," Brock breathed, wrenching a pocketknife from the pocket of his pants and snatching the ball from his hands. With a swift movement, he carved a thick 'X' into the pokeball, tossing it back to him and wiping his hands on his shirt. "There. Now you know. That better not ever happen again."

"I swear," he panted, staring at the ball with disbelief, "that's never happened before. Why would – why would I throw the wrong ball?"

"Because you obviously want to get us all killed!" Misty cried, tossing him a rag. "It was an accident, numbskull, things happen. Just don't do it again!"

As he wiped the stubble on his face free of drool, Umbreon rubbed her head across each newly dried patch of skin. With a thought, he checked his pockets, and what he found – or didn't find – alarmed him.

"Nidoking's ball!" He hopped to his feet, grabbing at his pants frantically. "It's not on me! No wonder I had the wrong ball, I don't even _have_ that nidoking on me!"

"Where would you have lost it?" Brock sounded equally concerned, while Misty narrowed her eyes at him.

"You lost it?" She threw her hands up. "We have less than a dozen pokemon between us and you_ lost_ one?"

"Not now, Umbreon," he ignored her as she tugged at his pant leg while he frantically searched. "I get it, you're glad I'm safe, not now –"

But when she let out an ear-splitting hiss, he finally turned to face her – and there she was, standing a dozen feet away now, squared off against something, tail straight out and fur bristling.

A mismagius, hovering above the dark-type with a gruesome reddish grin splitting its ghostly features.

A mismagius with a floating pokeball.

"You're shitting me," he whispered, looking back at Misty and Brock just to reaffirm that he wasn't imagining it. They too looked shocked.

Then it all came together.

"You!" He thrust his finger at the ghost-type, which let out a high-pitched cackle as if it knew exactly what Gary were saying. "That little shit has been following us around this whole time!"

"What?" Brock blinked.

"Mismagius can warp their environment, among other things when they're powerful enough," he began his tirade, glaring at the amused looking pokemon. "But they're most commonly responsible for chronic headaches and hallucinations."

"So you're saying," Misty's blue eyes widened a bit. "Brock, this is why you've been having all those headaches! And you weren't really seeing Brenda or your sisters – the mismagius screaming caused those hallucinations!"

"Exactly!" Gary growled. "It's been following us around screaming all night long, giving everybody hell, including Umbreon. That's why she never wants to go to bed with us. She knew we were being followed all along, but mismagius are weak against dark-types so the cowardly little shit wouldn't show itself to her!"

"And now…" Brock was staring at the levitating pokeball with increasing clarity. "Gary, you didn't pull the wrong pokeball. You pulled the_ only_ one. Because…"

"Because Mismagius here pick-pocketed my Nidoking," he finished angrily, "and I'm taking back what's mine. Now."

Umbreon rushed forward with earnest, as if she had been waiting to get another chance at the mismagius since the last time they had faced off. But as Umbreon's shadow ball materialized, the ghost-type vanished into the air, its hold on the pokeball slipping until the small machine bumped to the ground.

Gary's breath hitched as the pokeball hit the rocks face down, splitting open. When Umbreon realized she was facing down a rather infuriated looking nidoking instead of the mismagius she had thought, her shadow ball fizzled out with shock and she leapt back to avoid the swoop of his massive tail. Gary exchanged a look with the poison-type, and he might have even called it a meaningful one, where something unspoken passed between them. The beast let out a furious grunt and lifted one heavy foot, bringing it back down upon the pokeball that had held him. When he raised it again, the machine was in pieces.

_Fuck._

Blood dripped anew from the nidoking's old gunshot wounds. It was as if they had still happened yesterday, and Gary knew that he could thank the now shattered pokeball for that effect. The male dragged his right foot across the ground a few times and snorted as if to charge.

"Wait!" Brock was holding out some object and raced to take up space between Gary and the angry pokemon. "You want this, don't you, boy?"

There was a max potion in his hand. Gary doubted this plan would work. How would the nidoking even get the message? He probably didn't even know what the object was or what it could do for him. They were simply both going to get trampled this way.

But to his surprise the poison-type stopped. Instead of an angry charge, he took a few heavy steps forward and bent his head slightly, holding out his injured arm. Brock waited a moment in stillness before he cautiously approached.

"Be careful," Misty whispered, one hand over her lips.

"See?" Brock was speaking in soothing tones, something Gary found ridiculous to try on such a menacing looking creature. "It might sting a little, but that's nothing to you, right? You'll be as good as new in just a little while, boy."

Gary was amazed when the beast didn't immediately maul Brock afterwards. Instead the nidoking sniffed the other man from head to toe, his heavy breath blowing back the other man's hair.

"This is great and all," Gary huffed, raising an eyebrow. "But there's no pokeball for him now. How are we supposed to carry that thing around?"

The nidoking growled lowly and leered around Brock's side.

"He doesn't want to travel in a pokeball," Brock answered simply, as if he had any idea of what the pokemon really wanted. "Not after you left him in there for weeks without healing him. He probably doesn't trust you very much."

"I can see that," Gary glowered. Umbreon raced back to his side, taking a wide detour around the nidoking, and rubbed her spine against his leg.

_At least one of my pokemon likes me._

"So he's just going to…" Misty struggled to make sense of it, "…travel on foot with us?"

"Maybe," Brock looked back to the nidoking fondly, pulling a rice cake from his pack. "How's that sound, boy?"

The nidoking sniffed the treat suspiciously before taking a hesitant lick. In an instant the rest had been devoured, and he was producing a strange rumbling from deep in his belly. It wasn't a threatening sound – Gary had heard his own nidoking make it often years ago.

"Sounds like he's happy with you," Gary crossed his arms.

So his pokemon had essentially jumped ship and joined Brock's team. What bullshit.

"Are you sure this is safe?" Misty asked skeptically, coming a little closer to stand by Gary. "I mean…"

"We don't know if we can trust that thing," Gary snorted. "Seeing as the other of my pokemon tried to eat me all of ten minutes ago."

The nidoking exhaled loudly, glowering at Gary. Brock extended another rice cake, to which the beast calmed down for.

"Stop giving him those things every time he growls at me," Gary demanded. "You're going to teach him not to like me."

"I think _you_ might have taught him that," Brock chuckled, but when he saw Gary was not laughing, he added, "sorry, Gary."

"I don't like this," Misty muttered, looking up at him. He scowled.

"Yeah, me either."

"At least now you only have one pokeball," she muttered, "no messing that up again."

"Okay, I get it," he rolled his eyes. "I fucked up. That mismagius had the pokeball I had wanted anyway, it wasn't my fault."

"Just don't scare me like that anymore," she glared at him, heading back down the path. Brock followed, urging the nidoking along with him with the promise of more rice cakes with all the carefree attitude of a small boy feeding his growlithe. Gary patted Umbreon and followed suit, left to wonder why the hell Misty would ever be scared for him.

* * *

"Regret leaving your ball now, don't you?"

Gary smiled snidely as he passed by the covered nidoking, who was curled up in a tight ball, its face covered by thick tail. Snow whirled up around them, but the poison-type was too large to fit inside their tent, and in any case that was a step that both he and Misty agreed was too close for comfort. Brock had tried to convince them otherwise, but had settled for letting the other man shove stakes into the ground and pitch a tarp over the beast to shield him from the snow.

"He's out of his mind," Misty sighed, huddled in a blanket with Umbreon. Gary shrugged, settling down under the blanket shivering to join them.

"Pretty much," he agreed, as Brock had once again abandoned the safety of the tent to check on the security of nidoking's tarp.

"I heard that," the Pewter leader stumbled in, shaking and covered in dripping snow. "W-wouldn't you do the same thing for Umbreon?"

"Yeah," Gary chuckled sourly, "she's also loyal, a total sweetheart, and did I mention safe to be around?"

"Nidoking's just misunderstood," Brock explained, stripping free of his jacket and grabbing a blanket for himself.

"Yeah right," Misty laughed. "You just need something to baby."

"What? I don't baby him."

"You baby everybody, Brock," she giggled. "You always have. You just got done pitching a tarp for a giant pokemon perfectly capable of handling itself – not to mention you led it here with treats. I bet if you let him walk off, he would do just find even here on Mt. Silver. You _want_ to take care of him."

"What's so wrong with that?"

"Nothing, I guess," Misty shrugged good-naturedly. "It's just funny."

Gary found it strange that someone who so clearly enjoyed nurturing anything under his care had once specialized in rock-types – who needed, perhaps out of any type, the least amount of nurturing. But he had to remind himself that Brock had admitted that he had truly wanted to become a breeder, and considering the amount of infant pokemon that would put in his care, the occupation made sense for the other man.

Or would have made sense.

Soon they were all settling in for the night. Brock drifted off to sleep first, with Misty following shortly afterwards. For some reason, sleep evaded Gary. He tossed and turned, but it would not come.

He was trying to clear his mind when he heard the scraping of scaled against rock outside the tent. His blood ran cold with the possibilities of what might be stalking them now when he remembered.

_Nidoking,_ he cursed mentally._ It's probably just the Goddamn nidoking._

But when the scraping didn't die down, he rose from his blankets and peeked outside the tent. The snow was still billowing down as fierce as ever, but the nidoking had risen from his tarp and was making his way farther and farther away from their camp.

His first thought was along the lines of 'good riddance, traitor'. But then he thought of Brock, and how much joy he seemed to get from just feeding the damn thing, and he kicked the snow in exasperation. He was going soft for his travel companions. More importantly, he was going after nidoking.

He gathered a few rice cakes in the pockets of his jacket and stumbled out into the snow. He rushed after the poison-type, who was fast fading in the distance, until he was panting and caught up in the calf-deep blizzard.

"Hey!" He called, extending a hand of rice cakes. "Hey, come back here!"

Nidoking ignored him. He huffed angrily and raced around to stand in the pokemon's way.

"Listen, I know we don't get along –"

But the purple beast lumbered right past him.

By now Gary was growing frustrated. Why did the treats work with Brock and not him? Was he really so bad to this thing that it wouldn't even take food from him? If it didn't want food, what the hell could he expect it to want?

When he rounded on Nidoking for a third time, he realized there was purpose in his step. He wasn't just lumbering off, he was going somewhere. And a glance up in the distant sky gave Gary a clue.

Not too far off, smoke billowed just barely visible through the snow. Considering the weather, that couldn't be any natural fire, and fire-types weren't common in Mt. Silver. No. If there was a fire causing smoke that high in the distance, it meant one of two things – a captive pokemon, or a man-made fire.

Either way, that meant people.

It made sense. If someone was cooking and that was causing the smoke, Nidoking could likely smell the source from farther than Gary could expect to. If he followed Nidoking, he could expect to run into whoever was causing the smoke.

He debated running back and waking Misty and Brock, or at least rousing Umbreon to accompany him. But he was afraid that if he turned back, he would lose Nidoking in the snow and his trail to the smoke would be lost. Instead, he pressed on alone, silently following the purple-scaled pokemon through the snow. The journey couldn't have taken more than about ten minutes when Gary spotted a cabin-like house in the distance.

Abandoning his guide, Gary rushed towards the structure. He didn't care that it was the dead of night, as spending weeks on the mountain without so much as a watch had essentially rendered the concept of time irrelevant to him. He only knew that this was a clearly man-made house, that somebody clearly lived in as the chimney sported a nice funnel of smoke, and that he was going to get inside whether it scared the piss out of the place's residents or not.

"Hey!" He cried, pounding on the door wildly. "Hey, open up!"

Nidoking had caught up and began sniffing around the perimeter of the house. When he came up with not even so much as a scrap of garbage, to Gary's dismay the poison-type raised his horn to the nearest window.

"No!" He held out his hands and threw every last rice cake in the pokemon's direction. "Cut it out, you Goddamn -!"

But the rest of his sentence was drown out by the sound of shattering glass as Nidoking ever so carefully punctured his way through the window. His fuming was interrupted by the sound of a shout from inside the dwelling, and the door flung open to reveal the homeowner.

Gary's breath left him.


	9. Hide and Seek

**Disclaimer: I don't own.**

* * *

There was a moment of complete silence, and a stare exchanged between the two. Both read twin expressions of awe on the other's face. Then the moment passed, and Gary swung his fist forward.

Ash Ketchum let out a shout as the impact sent him stumbling backwards, gripping his face, and he tumbled over a chair he had backed into. Gary lunged into the house and tackled the other man to the floor before struggling to secure his hands around Ash's neck.

"Get the fuck off!"

Ash's voice, familiar even after twelve years, only seemed to fuel Gary's onslaught. When he could not secure a solid hold on the other man's throat, he settled for throwing aside the hat – he still wore that damned hat? – and using a fistful of dark hair to try and beat the man's skull into the wood.

Gary was surprised when a knee caught him in the gut, and his lapse in focus allowed Ash to haul Gary's figure off of him. Both clamored to their feet and stood off, blood dripping from Ash's nose, his hair wild, and in his hand gripped a lamp, snagged from a nearby end table as if he planned to defend himself with it.

Gary heard what happened next more than he felt it. It was a roaring that filled his ears and overtook all senses, but as much as he felt he could not support himself upright any longer he was too frozen and tense to fall. His eyes stayed splayed open, locked on the lamp that Ash gripped, still plugged in, as the light flicked on and off rapidly. The sensation went on for one second and an entire lifetime all at once, and then he hit the floor.

* * *

Gary's head was reeling. For a moment he took in his surroundings, simply trying to gather where he was. The wooden paneling was cool against his cheek, which was slick with sweat, and the unpleasant smell of vomit lingered in the air. Propping himself onto his elbows, he noticed strange pale lines, like tree roots or lightning strikes, were engraved beneath his skin.

"Feeling okay?"

At the sound, his memory was jogged, bringing him out of the mental fog. He was on Mt. Silver – the house, the living room, the floor – all belonged to Ash Ketchum.

"Thanks for leaving me on the floor," he articulated sourly, glaring at the man standing in the adjacent kitchen, washing a rag in the sink mundanely.

"Thanks for punching me in the mouth," he retorted, dropping the rag into the sink with a wet splat. "And you're welcome for wiping the puke from your face."

Gary didn't have time to wonder where the puke had come from before a yellow rodent hopped into his field of vision. The furry thing chittered something and rolled an apple in his direction.

"Pikachu feels bad for shocking you," Ash shrugged, still not looking in his direction. Gary studied the back of his head instead, half-covered by a red and white cap. "Couldn't tell you why."

"Oh, I don't know," he shot back, "it couldn't be because I passed out in your living room and chucked up my lunch."

"Normal side effects."

Gary got to his feet. On second thought he reached down and retrieved the apple, biting into it shakily. He felt slightly less lightheaded chewing the fruit in his mouth.

"Don't worry about the lines, either," he went on dismissively, motioning to his own arm. "They'll fade in a few days."

"I know," he hissed. Who the hell did Ash think he was? "I'm not some moron. I've dealt with electric-type attacks before, thanks."

"Thirsty?"

Without a glance in his direction, the other man held out a glass of water and set it on the countertop beside him. Then he tossed the rag into the sink and walked out of sight into the other room without acknowledging him further.

Rage boiled in Gary's gut.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?" He clamored to his feet and threw the apple to the ground. Ash's pikachu followed after him nervously, ears twitching. "Do you have any idea who's standing in your house right now? Doesn't that fucking mean anything to you?"

Ash didn't look away from where he was now nailing thick wooden boards over the shattered living room window. Fleetingly, Gary wondered where Nidoking was, but he pushed it to the back of his mind in favor of the long awaited confrontation with his rival.

"Gary Samuel Oak," Ash shrugged casually, still not sparing him a glance. "What do you want, Gary, for me to fall to my knees and thank you for sparing me the time of day? Is that why you're here?"

In an instant Gary had closed the space between them and dug his fingers into Ash's collar, spinning him around. His rival still stood a few inches shorter than he did. His black hair was still a mess hidden beneath that stupid hat. He looked vastly unchanged, but there was something different. Something in his eyes.

He looked calm. Gary wasn't getting to him.

"Where the fuck have you been," he glowered darkly, shaking him slightly. He ignored the growing buzz he could hear in the corner of the room, and noticed Ash held up his left palm to cease his starter. "It's been twelve years. Do you have any idea…have you just…"

He couldn't form the words he wanted to say. He wasn't even sure what it was that he wanted to say.

"What do you want, Gary," Ash repeated. "A place to stay for the night? I guess I could spare you my couch. Why are you here, so you can gloat about your achievements over dinner?"

"You're going to listen to me," he snapped, tightening his grip. "You're going to listen to what I'm going to say very carefully. You have no idea the hell I've been through, the hell _Kanto_ has been through, and you have no idea what I've had to do just to haul my ass up this God-forsaken mountain to find you, so you, you sorry little piece of shit are going to listen to me!"

With that, he turned and shoved Ash backwards over the couch, where he landed back to the floor, legs splayed up over the cushions. Pikachu let out an angry cry, but Ash stopped him before sparks could fly from his cheeks.

"I've already spent years listening to you," Ash spat back. "Listening to you treat me like dirt. If you're here to rub it in my face that you've been making something of yourself while I've been up on this mountain, there's the fucking door, Gary."

Gary laughed. It was hollow and dry, and for the first time since he had rushed through the door, something he did seemed to unnerve Ash Ketchum.

"You think I've been making something of myself?" He laughed harder, gripping the back of the couch to keep his hands occupied peacefully. "Here's the thing, Ashy-boy. Nobody makes anything of themselves in Kanto anymore. Galactic makes something of you. For the better part of twelve years I've been hiding in a hole in the floor with Umbreon. Remember her? Yeah, she's the last one I've got. Imagine that. Where are the rest of your pokemon, Ash? Imagine that – that they were all taken from you, and you only managed to save one, and you will never see them again, and you know that for a fact."

"That nidoking," he spoke up, "that's not your nidoking?"

"It _was_ mine," he snorted angrily. "Once we stole it from a Galactic guard. But the bastard decided he liked Brock more than he –"

"What?" Ash interrupted loudly, rising up on his hands. "What did you say? Who?"

"Brock Harrison," he repeated, having momentarily forgotten what an effect that revelation might have on Ash. "Oh, did I forget to mention? I didn't travel all this way alone. Let's see if this name rings a bell – Misty Waterflower?"

Ash was silent. He expected perhaps confusion, or anger, or any type of extreme reaction – but what he got was a pitiful whisper.

"You're not going to tell her I'm here, are you?"

Gary wanted to scowl. God, that look could have busted the resolve of a Galactic soldier. But he was Gary Oak, and there was no way Ash Ketchum was going to get off easy on his watch.

"I'm going to do whatever the hell I want," he sneered. "Not unlike you, huh?"

The situation could have easily escalated into another brawl right then and there. But instead of provoking it further, Ash got to his feet.

"Please, Gary," he pleaded, and it took Gary aback. What was he supposed to do, faced with his ex-rival – rival, now? – practically begging him for something? Years ago he would have used it to his advantage, or done the exact opposite of what Ash pleaded for just to get the laughs out of his misfortune.

But frankly, he was tired.

"What," he sighed, running a hand through his matted hair. "What, what do you want? What the hell do you think I'm supposed to do if I don't tell them I found you?"

"We can – what – can't we just talk about this?" Ash stammered, trying to come up with an appeasing answer quickly. His demeanor had changed from confrontational to compromising rapidly. He motioned to the kitchen. "You can stay the night if you want. I do actually have a guest room. You look beat."

"Which couldn't have anything to do with your little rodent, could it?" He glowered, but he shed his jacket and left it on the ground where it fell. "And I'm taking a damn shower."

Ash didn't argue with allowing him to use his bathroom, and when Gary stepped inside, he could see why. He didn't imagine he had ever looked such a wreck in his life. The stubble on his face was out of control from weeks without care. His hair was matted, more so even from the electric shock, and his eyes sported bags. He stripped of his filthy clothing and stepped under the hot spray of water, sighing with relief.

When he had finished scrubbing the grime from his body, he felt no qualms against using Ash's hairbrush. He desperately wanted a shave, but decided he could wait on that. Digging through the cupboards, he decided that he would further take advantage of his host by using the only available toothbrush he could find – and tossing it into the open toilet afterwards.

He passed by a large bed in the adjacent room with longing and returned downstairs, where Ash was seated at a table and slurping down soup. Gary wasted no time pouring himself a bowl.

"So," Gary began, raising his eyebrows. He wasn't entirely sure why he was still here. He should have turned out the door and trekked back to Misty and Brock and reported the news, like they had planned. Better yet, he should have turned around when he was following Nidoking and gotten back-up, instead of heading off to the cabin himself. That would have eliminated the issue entirely.

"So…really," Ash began. "Why are you here?"

"We found your map," Gary said between gulps. "Cute message, _Red_."

If Gary hadn't been stuffing his face with soup, he might have noticed the slight color that rose to his rival's face. Ash scratched the back of his neck.

"You haven't called me that in a while."

"You haven't been around in a while."

"Not since we were kids," he ignored Gary's reply, bringing his hand closer to the floor in a gesture of measurement. "Really little, I mean. When we used to get along."

"If you're trying to be sentimental," Gary began, "to keep me from being pissed at you, it isn't working."

"Listen, Pikachu's sorry he shocked you."

"You think that's why I'm pissed at you?" He scowled. "You're dense."

"Your nidoking broke my window."

"Not my nidoking," he shrugged. "One window isn't making up for twelve years anyway."

"You can't be mad because I left."

"And why the hell can't I?" He demanded.

"Why would _you _care?"

The question hung in the air silently. In fact, it was one Gary had been asking himself periodically since their journey had begun – why _did_ he care?

"We're rivals," he settled on. "Somebody had to pull together and find your sorry ass."

"Why'd it take you so long?"

At that, Gary slammed his bowl onto the table.

"Oh, I don't know, Ash," he snapped, "it can't be because you left all of one hint, which contained a grand total of three words, all of which were colors that nobody fucking understood. It can't be because I had an actual life or anything. It certainly can't be because you decided to take up hiding on_ Nowhere Ledge_ in the middle of _Buttfuck Mountain_."

The meal fell silent for a moment.

"You're going to tell Misty no matter what I say, aren't you?" Ash looked up at him, fiddling with the spoon in his soup bowl.

"Obviously," he answered honestly. "You can't think I'm going to play along with your little hide-and-seek game after we trekked all the way up here."

"So you, Misty and Brock?" He sighed heavily, eyes now cast to the floor. "How'd that happen?"

"It's a long story," he dismissed the question, "and frankly, you're not done explaining yourself yet. Speaking of Misty, she might be an irritating bitch sometimes –"

"Don't call her that," Ash cut him off, and for some reason, Gary felt something unfamiliar stir up his fury. It was not unlike the feeling he got when people used to criticize his grandfather's work, or when he saw Galactic guards at the base of Mt. Silver eyeing Umbreon.

Defensive.

"You," he started, putting his palms to the table and lifting himself into a standing position, "aren't going to tell me what I can call Misty Waterflower. Because last time I checked, you are the one who traveled with her for years, called her your friend, freaking proposed to her, and then ditched her for twelve straight years without so much as dropping a line. So if I want to call her a bitch, I think I'm entitled to it, because when she couldn't so much as move a muscle for days on end, I was carrying her to use the damn bathroom – and where were you?"

"And if you think she's waited for you all this time, that you're going to see her again and she's going to run into your arms, sorry to burst your little bubble. Because after traveling with her for so long, I like to think I might know a little thing or two about Misty. And there's one thing about her that's been consistent this whole time, and that's that she doesn't put up with shit. Not even from me, not from anyone I've seen, and I can certainly bet that includes you."

Gary was suddenly making for the door. For a moment there Ash had almost swindled him into staying the night, perhaps never going back and telling his companions about his findings – no. That wasn't going to happen.

Ignoring the protests following him out, he slammed the door behind him. The blizzard outside had died down considerably and was now only the soft fall of snowy flakes. Nidoking, who he had all but forgotten about, was seated rather comfortably on the porch licking the remains of berries off a large plate, which he could only assume Ash had tossed to him at some point. He didn't wait to see whether the poison-type was going to follow him and set off down the path towards camp immediately.

To his surprise, when he could see the small tent in the distance, his traveling partners were already up and about. Dawn was approaching, casting an orange glow over the snow, but Gary hadn't thought they would be up just yet. Usually they at least waited until the sun was up…

When Misty, whose flaming hair stuck out like a beacon in the distance, turned and noticed him, she let out a shriek and began running his way. Brock shuffled quickly after, but Umbreon reached him first. The dark-type leapt into his arms and sent him stumbling backwards into the snow, but he welcomed the bitter cold around his ears for her warmth in his arms.

"What's the deal, girl?" He chuckled, ruffling the fur on her forehead. She replied by rubbing his cheeks against hers until he maneuvered her off of him.

"Gary!"

Hands grasped at his elbows and hauled him to his feet, where he was wrapped into a quick embrace. By the time he had realized that it had occurred it was long over, and Misty was glaring at him with sharp blue eyes.

"Where were you?" She cried. "We thought you'd been dragged off by an ursaring or something!"

It occurred to him that he had no idea how long exactly he had been gone. He had left in the night and was returning just before dawn – it had been at least a few hours.

"Funny you should ask," he murmured, but he waited until Brock caught up before he continued. "I'm fine. But I found something you might want to see."

He insisted they pack up camp first, and had to explain to Brock several times that Nidoking was definitely safe. He answered that same question several more times as he led the pair back towards where he knew he was about to shock them more severely than they had possibly ever been in their lives. He found it difficult to focus, and his chest felt heavy, as if he were keeping a secret rather than revealing it. Though he had no reason to, he felt something akin to guilt rising in his gut.

_This is why we're here,_ he told himself repeatedly, as the sounds of Misty and Brock conversing faded to a dull drone in the background._ This is why we're here._

Still it did not seem right when he opened the door to the cabin without a knock. His companions might have commented on the strangeness of a house in such a remote place, or even asked some question, putting together the pieces in their minds about where they might be, but he was too distracted to notice. It did not seem right when his old rival stood from the couch timidly, and carefully turned around to look him fearfully in the eyes. He had left the house in a fury, anger fueling his march back to camp, filled with ideas of tearing down the door and forcing Ash Ketchum to face justice.

"Ash?"

It did not seem right anymore to force your company on someone who had so obviously hidden from you for years. It did not seem right to face them off against their former best friends who they were so obviously not prepared to see again. The more Gary returned Ash's stare, which did not falter from his eyes even as Brock spoke his name, it seemed to him that even after years of endless torment as rivals, this was the cruelest thing he had ever forced Ash Ketchum to endure.

The slamming of the door broke Gary from his racing thoughts, and caused each man in the room to jump slightly. When he looked around for the source, he found that they were all who remained.

* * *

There was a collective silence. Gary was sure that just as it had occurred to him, Ash Ketchum and Brock Harrison were also aware that someone had to go after Misty. They couldn't risk losing track of her and being unable to find her again. But there was a heavy pause in which the duty was passed around the group without words. At first Gary rested his eyes on Ash, but it became clear quickly that he was not up to the task. Gary could see in Brock's expression that he was willing to go after the redhead, but he was still watching Ash out of the corner of his eyes with such fascination that Gary left the house without another word.

It wasn't hard to follow the tracks in the snow to where Misty Waterflower was leaning against a slab of rock, hands covering her face. When he pulled them away he expected to see a face slick with tears, but to his surprise she instead looked chalky white and completely dry-eyed.

"I don't know if I can do this," she stammered, shaking her head slowly. "I feel like I'm going to be sick."

"I should have warned you," he offered, but she seemed to not have heard him.

"I can't believe he's alive," she chuckled bitterly, "he's been alive all this time! God, I used to sit up at night and think that he had to be dead, that death was the only thing –"

She paused as if choking on her own words.

"- that death was the only thing that could ever keep him away for that long. Because he – what's the point? Goddammit!"

She turned and slammed a fist into the rock wall, making him cringe. Her pale skin was slicked with red across the knuckles, but she didn't notice.

"What was the point?" She stared past him, through him. "Why bother?"

"Misty –"

Gary turned in surprise to hear that voice, and found both Brock and Ash standing behind him. Ash looked fearful – he could bet Brock had talked him into following them – and when Misty rounded on him, pointing her finger in accusation, he took a step back.

"You're a _liar!_" She screamed. "You're a liar, Ash Ketchum! What was the point? Why bother proposing if you were just going to run up here and play house all by yourself? Did you think I needed it or something? I could have done just fine without you! God, why do something like that if you don't care? If you didn't love me you should have just_ left me the hell alone!_"

Tears were welling up in the redhead's eyes, but none fell.

"Did you think you were doing me a favor?" She spit. "Pretending to care about me? You used me, and when you got bored you came up here to start over!"

"I didn't come here to start over," Ash managed a surprising word in, "there's no one up here but me."

"Don't feel like you have to explain yourself to me," she hissed, "you could have a harem up here for all I care. Whether you came up here to with a colony of _whores_ or with nobody, it doesn't make you any less of an asshole. Don't bother explaining anything to me, Ash Ketchum, and in fact, don't bother talking to me. Don't look at me, don't acknowledge me – if there was a way for me to find out about it, I'd tell you to stop_ thinking_ about me. You didn't bother coming back for me, and there's no way I'm up here to come after you. I just want my nation back – my life back."

Ash reached for his belt and shifted something free. When he popped open the pokeball, a massive beast emerged with orange scales glinting in the rising light and giant wings stretching out either side of it. Its leathery underside was peppered with circular scars and even its hard scales were dented or chipped in places, littered with old bullet wounds.

"I did try to come back," he stood motionless, towered over by the beast, which snorted and lowered its head to eye the newcomers more closely. The snow around its feet was beginning to melt.

"Congratulations," she sneered. "I'm sorry Charizard had to suffer for it. You look like you've come out just fine! I would have – I would have done anything! I would have _died_ if that's what the risks had been to help you, to help _us_!"

She sent him one last icy glare before setting off back towards the house.

"But it looks like I was the only one."


	10. There is Fire

**Disclaimer: I do not have possession of anything Pokemon related...that I didn't buy myself.**

* * *

"I don't want you to stay here."

Gary was reclined in a loveseat, one knee drawn up towards his chest and the other leg stretched out across the floor, inching towards the fireplace. Misty was undoubtedly holed up in the bathroom or the spare bedroom, where she spent every waking moment of her time, as Ash wouldn't be found in either of those locations. Brock was outside, spoiling the nidoking and training with his hitmonlee, who he clearly favored over the dragonair and chansey he was also equipped with. Not that any of them really trusted that dragonair, anyway.

A few feet to his left Ash Ketchum sat in a twin seat with Pikachu nestled in his lap. Now that Gary had the time to observe the little electric-type, he realized that his fur looked darker than the last time he had seen him, and he moved slower. If Ash were around, he would beg to be carried up the stairs rather than have to hop them himself. Age was catching up with him.

"Yeah, well," he snorted, "the three of us sort of come as a package deal nowadays."

Ash sent him a glare, as if he resented that statement.

"Not just you," he clarified. "You're all just…well…it's uncomfortable."

"Sorry to inconvenience you," he rolled his eyes, "but you know what else is pretty uncomfortable? Having to deal with Galactic Police searching my gym every other week."

"I don't see how I'm supposed to help you," he went on.

"You have pokemon," he pointed at the sleeping starter in the other man's lap. "And we do not."

"You do have pokemon."

"Because we_ stole_ them," he snapped. "What's your problem? Why don't you want to help Kanto? We came all this way to tell you that you can help save your homeland and you look bored!"

"I just don't see how I can help."

"Me either, if that makes you feel better, hotshot," he replied sarcastically. "But my grandfather seems to have a hell of a lot of faith in you, so you'd better come up with something unless you want to let an old man down."

"How is Professor Oak?"

"His lab got burned to the ground awhile back," he eyed Ash narrowly. "He's doing peachy."

There was a large chunk of silence between them. Surprising even to himself, Gary had found that he was the most social with Ash. Misty altogether ignored any mention or sight of the dark-haired man, which he couldn't blame her for, and Brock just seemed too uncomfortable with the entire arrangement to make more than brief casual conversation. Only he had managed to sit down and talk to Ash about the real reasons that they had trekked all that way to find him.

"How's my mom?"

"How do you think?" Gary looked at him with disgust. "She doesn't have your dad and now she doesn't have you."

"Don't talk about my dad."

"It's not like I have much to say about him anyway," he shrugged. "Never met the guy."

Gary continuously tried to push the conversation in the direction of what to do about Kanto, but Ash was seemingly having none of it. Eventually, he became so fed up with the other man's avoidance that he up and left, joining Brock outside.

"Hey, Gary," Brock breathed through commands, which his ninetails was following surprisingly obediently. "Want to try working with one of my other pokemon?"

He knew the offer was probably to compensate for Nidoking basically bailing on him, but he accepted anyway. Half of him wanted to give Hitmonlee a shot, but another part of him screamed for a pokemon like the dragonair. Sharp as a tack, breakneck speed…

When he called out the dragon-type, he stared him down carefully. When he gave him a few commands, he listened intently and performed them flawlessly, but never did his beady eyes leave his face. It wasn't until Ash stepped outside and called for him that the dragonair whipped around, surprised by the shout, and slithered at a striking pace through the snow and towards Ash Ketchum.

Gary didn't have time to call out, but it turned out he didn't have to. Ash held out a single hand, open palmed, and gave a firm shout of "no!'" and the dragonair stopped dead, jaws still split open to reveal every small needle-like tooth just a foot away from him. Then he brought his open palm downwards in a swift motion and slapped the dignified dragonair on the snout.

Instead of lunging and ripping the other man's throat out as Gary suspected might happen next, the dragonair hissed indignantly but relented. He lowered his head slightly and glared at the human, but did not strike.

"Impressive," Brock noted quietly.

Gary recalled the dragonair and stared at Ash in confusion. He looked nothing like the boy who had choked at the Indigo League. Every inch of him had commanded that pokemon's respect, and he had received it even begrudgingly.

Considering the unsuccessful conversations Gary had been trying to start with him, it was as if Ash Ketchum had gotten better at communicating with pokemon than his own kind.

* * *

"Dinner."

Misty Waterflower turned over her shoulder and acknowledged him, but then turned her back again.

"Let me know if there's any leftovers."

"You're not going to eat with us," Gary stated as a fact. Of course she wasn't. Ash Ketchum would be at the table, which meant she surely wouldn't be. The redhead kept facing away from him, seated on the spare bed of the room and scribbling something onto a piece of paper. "Too busy with your poetry?"

"It's not poetry," she shot back. "It's a letter."

"In case you didn't notice," he began slowly, "Mt. Silver doesn't have a postal service."

"Yeah, well," she shrugged it off. "I'm trying to work around that. Eventually. I thought about sending Golbat, but he would probably just make off for the nearest cave. Plus, a golbat swooping down on you doesn't exactly read 'friendly message'."

"Who are you writing to?" He leaned against the door frame, casting a shadow across the wooden floor as rising moonlight shone through the window across the room. "Some lover boy back home?"

"Yes, actually," she snipped. "Now mind your own business, Gary!"

He made a point to tease her more about it later, and closed the door behind him before returning to the table to eat. He hadn't known anything about a guy back home, nor could he really tell if Misty was being serious or sarcastic, but it didn't surprise him. She was a young, single gym leader and she wasn't bad looking to boot – quite a catch, really.

_Gross, did I just think that about Misty? I really have been up on this mountain too long._

Dinner began stuffily, with no conversation. The tension in the room was practically going to make him sick, and when Brock broke the stiff silence he was glad for it.

"Ash," he put down his fork, the dark-haired man across the table looking up at him as if surprised he were being addressed. "What exactly have you been doing up here all this time?"

He took a moment to answer. Gary began to rap his fingers on the wooden planks of the table for emphasis, but he was ignored.

"I guess I do have some explaining to do," he began slowly, and Brock nodded without any of the biting remarks Gary thought to add. "Are you…do you really want to hear any of it?"

Brock nodded again, and Gary noticed that his ex-rival – rival? Goddammit, he had no idea anymore – wasn't so much as sparing him a sideways glance.

"You might sort of have some explaining to do to me," he raised his eyebrows, "also."

Again, Ash didn't acknowledge him.

"I really didn't mean to be gone so long," he started cautiously, "and I know that's probably hard to believe, and I don't blame you if you don't trust a word of what I say. I'm just glad you even want to try and hear me out, even if you call me a liar afterwards – I probably won't even get that kind of chance with Misty."

"It was only supposed to be a few months. I left…well, you know why I left, right? I knew I needed to take my training to the next level, and this was the best spot to do it. I knew if I could spend a few months living on Mt. Silver my pokemon and I would be more ready than ever to take on any challenges that might face us. I ended up staying a little longer than intended, but it was still under six months' time. I thought that if I came home, everybody would be pretty mad, but they would forgive me. They'd understand."

"So I tried. I came down the mountain, but somebody had been following me. They'd been watching me, and they had seen how strong my pokemon were becoming, and they didn't want me returning to Kanto. Because they were already plotting, and none of us knew it yet."

"You can't be talking about Galactic," Gary cut in. "What would you know about Galactic, up here in your little snowy resort?"

Ash turned and glared at him before pulling his shirt abruptly over his head. The first thing Gary noticed was that the other man no longer had the body of a scrawny late-teen but the lean muscles of a man who spent his time weathering the harsh conditions of an unforgiving mountain. The second was when he turned around, and he noticed that the scarred skin at the base of his neck formed a sentence.

_Ash Ketchum_

_Property of Team Galactic_

Brock's jaw had dropped slightly and it took a certain amount of control for Gary not to follow suit. He had spent all this time imagining that Ash had never had to deal with the cruelty of Team Galactic, and that he led some sort of pampered solitary life. It was like a kick to the gut to realize that perhaps he had suffered as much as the rest of them.

"Even before Galactic blew up publically, they were taking prisoners," he pulled the shirt back over his head, where it caught on his hat brim for a moment. "Escaping wasn't exactly easy. My snorlax didn't make it out and Pikachu was doing pretty badly for a while."

"So you went to…prison?" Brock ventured.

"Basically," he nodded. "They captured me on my way down the mountain and tried to take my pokemon. I still don't know what they do with the pokemon they take – I managed to steal most of mine back before they had the chance to do anything much."

Pikachu, who he only just now noticed was watching the conversation, chittered and hopped up onto the table.

"They had poor Pikachu in a pokeball," Ash sent a halfhearted smile the little electric-type's way. "He's still pretty upset about it."

"We could have gone with you, you know," Brock spoke up. "Misty and I. We _would_ have gone with you."

"And for what?" He answered. "Brock, you both had already given up too much for me. You left your city and your family to follow me around and watch me achieve my dreams, and I couldn't even do that right! Misty…well – she just really didn't want to see me fail at the Indigo League. We had…whatever. It doesn't matter, because I did fail."

"You could have tried again."

Misty's voice carried down and surprised all three of them. Gary turned over his shoulder in his chair to face her, where she was standing arms crossed at the top of the steps.

"Why give up instead?" Her voice was cold. "That's not the Ash I knew."

Ash's mouth was held open, as if he had some sort of response prepared, but he never got to voice it. Because at that moment, something red flashed in Gary's vision, and though he could not see it Ash Ketchum could. Through a slightly cracked window across the room, a flickering red beam of light was illuminating a small red dot between Gary Oak's eyes.

"Gary, get down!"

But he didn't have to, for the other man tackled him out of his chair and to the floor with a clatter. The unmistakable sound of whirring air rushed past above them both, and a small bullet planted itself in the wall across the room, shattering a bowl and spilling hot soup onto the floor. Brock and Misty had also hit the deck, and with Gary still lodged firmly against the floor beneath Ash Ketchum they heard Nidoking roar outside. He gripped the man hovering closely above him as an unsteady silence fell over them. Umbreon let out a concerned cry from the upstairs, but he didn't have the breath to call out to his companion.

Then, fire.

Searing, hot, licking at his skin, Gary rolled in a panic before finding his footing. The heat burned at his eyes and throat, and he fumbled blindly through the room. The roaring of the fire was too loud to hear anyone over, and his mind screamed simple instructions.

_Escape escape escape._

He hit a wall, throwing his hands out to feel along its length for a window or a door. The surface seared at his palms until he felt it slip around a brief corner, slitting open a finger on glass. A window! A broken one, but all the better for him. Feeling along the bottom for shards to avoid, he hauled himself over and sunk into the mercifully cold snow.

"Cease fire! There's one!"

Eyes still stinging, he managed to make out a few moving shapes against the snowy backdrop. Still preoccupied with the crackle of flames close behind him, he crawled through the snow away from the inferno. He cried out hoarsely when he was wrenched by the wrists to his knees, another wrestling with his hands to maneuver them behind his back. It was only with a metallic 'click' did the reality of what was occurring sink in.

_I'm being arrested._

His mind coming to, Gary looked over his shoulder to see the house behind him splitting apart at the seams. With a thunderous cracking, the boards of the roof caved in completely and a pair of enormous leathery wings spread across the expanse. Raising his head, Ash's charizard opened his maw and let out a furious roar. One swift movement of his wings propelled him into the air and sprayed embers in the gust. From behind him, another quaking bellow sent Gary's head spinning towards the sound, to where a second charizard, armored to the teeth in Galactic gear, swept itself into the air, a rider atop its back. Gary noted Ash riding bareback, face contorted with the effort of holding on as the two beasts clashed together in the air.

When someone clocked him across the face, Gary's mind snapped away from the skyward scene unfolding and to the situation he found himself in. Rolling back with the blow, he settled his weight onto his back and kicked out at his assailant. Another Galactic man lunged at him to subdue him, but he rolled and tripped the grunt. Before he could ready himself for another defense, he was grabbed by either shoulder roughly with a tazer positioned at his forehead.

"I really don't think you want to be subdued any further, do you, sweetheart?"

The woman before him was familiar. He wracked his mind for a moment before he realized it was she who he had encountered before their escape into Mt. Silver – Administrator Mars. Her hair blended well with the backdrop behind her, the two airborne charizards still locked in combat.

He didn't reply, but resisted the urge to spit at her.

"There's a good boy," she cooed poisonously. "You're going to come with us now."

Gary didn't hear the attack coming, and neither did any of the Galactics, for when Umbreon struck surprise was etched all over Admin Mars' face. Umbreon would have sunk her teeth straight through the redhead's throat, if not for the armor protecting it, but when the grunts turned their guns on her Gary's heart stopped.

"No!" He shouted quickly, doubting it would do any good. "No, don't shoot! I'll go!"

Still, one man fired. Detectably inexperienced, he missed, and Umbreon leapt away with a start and darted back before turning around and readying another attack.

"_No!_" He commanded, halting her in her tracks. "Do you understand me, Umbreon? Go!"

She lowered her head slightly but made no move away from him. Admin Mars scrambled to her feet, wrenching a pistol from her own side. Gary's breath caught until he realized it was not turned on his starter.

"You could have killed me!" The redhead shrieked. "You idiot!"

"Go, Umbreon!" He screamed again, and for emphasis he kicked a pile of snow in her direction. She sidestepped it before trying to dart forward. "Don't you get it? No!_ Go away!_"

"They'll take anybody into this organization these days!" Admin Mars fumed, returning her pistol to its hilt. The grunt writhed for a moment in the dyed red snow.

With a dejected, confused look, Umbreon finally left him, dashing back around the now charred house. The ground beneath them all shook suddenly as Ash's charizard hit the ground, letting out a raking cry, his trainer thrown visibly a few dozen feet to the side. The armored beast Galactic wielded had numerous gashes in its formerly pristine armor, but Ash's charizard showed the same marks through his scaly skin. Blood dripped into the snow which melted around him as he staggered to his feet and mustered up another fire blast even without his trainer egging him on. Gary struggled to get to his feet, but more grunts were upon him in seconds, and when something heavy struck his temple, he blacked out.

* * *

He stumbled through the snow a bloody mess, clutching his chest. Each breath brought forth a tight choking sensation from his lungs, gripping Charizard's ball tightly in his right hand and Pikachu to his shoulder with his left.

"Ash!" It was Brock screaming his name, and when the older man caught him falling forward in the snow, he let out a desperate cry, squeezing back tears he hadn't been aware he still possessed.

"They took Gary," he sputtered, "they have Gary."


	11. Johto

**Disclaimer: I don't own Pokemon. **

* * *

When he came to, he was still in handcuffs.

Gary's head pounded and he hardly felt inclined to open his eyes. Nonetheless, his eyelids lifted ever so slightly to take in his situation. The floor his cheek rested on was cold and metallic where with Misty and Brock there might have been the leathery feel of the tent. The subtle bumps that slightly shifted his body told him that they were moving in some kind of vehicle. Most importantly, two men and a woman clad in Galactic uniforms were seated on a metal bench at the far end of the room he found himself in, which was not a large one. His throat still ached with every breath from smoke inhalation, and though his first instinct was to leap to his feet and confront his captors, he thought better of it. He couldn't be sure if Ash, Misty, or Brock were with him in the situation – or Umbreon, for that matter. He needed to use his head.

"Mars is pretty upset about the escapees."

One male grunt started up conversation, and Gary with his back turned continued to feign unconsciousness.

"Yeah, well," the girl began, "can't win them all, can you?"

"She'd hit the fan if she heard you say that," the other man replied. "Galactic is out to do exactly that. She's not really into compromising."

"Well, it doesn't matter what she's into," the female answered. "Mars, believe it or not, isn't Galactic's boss."

"Yeah?" The first man snorted. "Well she's our boss, so you'd better keep your mouth shut when she comes around."

Escapees. So at least not everyone was here – wherever the hell here happened to be.

"That nidoking is giving Mars some trouble," the other man griped. "He doesn't seem happy to be back."

"Pokemon can't be happy," the female sneered. "Come on, really? They don't feel."

As Gary lay there, pretending as convincingly as he could to be unconscious , he contemplated that statement. Could pokemon feel? He had always assumed so naturally, to some degree at least, but when he caught himself applying complex emotions like guilt and remorse even to Umbreon, he tried to reel himself in. Was that really realistic?

"I've heard that with Galactic in control," one man lowered his voice to a hushed whisper, "nobody will."

There was a tense silence. Even the woman fell quiet with the weight of her comrade's sentence. Gary took a minute to contemplate its potential meaning, but he simply didn't understand.

How could one stop feeling?

* * *

Ash isolated himself from his two companions, if they could be called that. It was evident that Brock felt more comfortable talking to him, but he could not express the same ease in return. Misty ignored him fully even still, and he couldn't say he blamed her. Only Pikachu remained a constant comfort, something he was familiar with for the past dozen years.

"Dammit," he whispered to himself more than anyone, knees drawn up to his chest as if he were still a child. Pikachu let out a quiet whimper and nudged his side. "They…"

He trailed off. Instead his mind sunk back to a time when the base of his neck was unblemished, when he was first thrown into a Galactic cell. The floor had been littered with dirt and the entire structure almost archaic. He remembered encountering an elderly man with light graying hair who had burned the phrase into his back, smiling all the while..._  
_

_Ash Ketchum, Property of Team Galactic…_

The entrance of the tent fluttered open, and the quiet footsteps of Gary's umbreon signaled her arrival. She took a silent seat next to him, ears drooping, tail against the ground. Ash looked at her with sympathy. He might have expressed with words that it would be alright to a human, but instead he leaned over and rested the side of his head against her shoulder, a gesture which she returned. He could practically feel the torrent of emotions rolling off of her like a wave – confusion, grief.

_"What does it matter, what we do to this beast?" The man cried, firing yet another bullet through his snorlax's hide. The normal-type let out a wild cry, but held his ground. "They cannot feel as we do!"_

Ash simply did not see how anyone could believe that.

* * *

Gary noted the backpack and pokeball upon the shelf, and recognized that they were his.

The trio were still gossiping among themselves. With an exaggerated groan, he rolled over.

"He's waking up," the girl hissed. He coughed several times unnecessarily.

"Where -"

He had meant to drag out the sentence as if he were just barely awake yet. But before he had the chance, one of the men had gotten to his feet and shuffled him roughly to his feet by his shirt.

"No questions."

His things on the shelf were within a leap's distance. But he couldn't risk a leap with his hands cuffed behind his back. They had to think he was harmless.

"Do you have my umbreon?"

"I said no questions!" The man shoved him roughly. He exaggerated the fall, slamming into the wall as hard as he could. The shelf nearby rattled a bit, and the round object atop it rolled slowly until it fell to the floor. There was a moment exchanged between Gary and the three comrades, and then all four of them turned their attention back towards the pokeball now within his reach. He threw himself back, hands scrambling blindly from behind him for the ball while the two men rushed at him and the women rushed for the ball. He felt it nearly slip from his grasp when one man seized him by the collar and manhandled him to his feet. He clicked open the red and white machine just as the other man reached him and delivered a solid punch to his gut.

Red aura gave way to blue scales that pressed upward on the ceiling until the metal began to bend. The long body of the gyarados began to unfold and pressure the walls apart, Gary falling to his feet as wherever he was being held began to shake and his captors abandoned him in horror. With a furious roar, the gyarados materialized fully, splitting open their cell and bringing forth a gust of sharp wind peppered with snow. Gary fell back, and to his surprise he tumbled backwards into the tundra. He coughed honestly now, wishing he could grip his aching abdomen. The long vehicle that had been their transport was now split open in several places, with his gyarados towering dozens of feet over the wreckage. Smoke billowed from broken pipes in the armored vehicle and grunts were beginning to pour out of their stalled transportation. Further shocking him, he spotted a purple mass chained to the end of the bus-sized Galactic vehicle, covered mostly in snow and motionless.

As grunts began to shout and load up their weapons, his gyarados sent the front half of the vehicle rolling with a sweep of his mighty tail. Galactic soldiers ducked for cover in the snow. Gary rushed to his feet, lest he be noticed by his own violent pokemon, and rushed to the mass he had spotted in the snow.

"Nidoking," he breathed, noticing the metal chain around the creature's neck. Bringing his shoe up to the beast's shoulder, he nudged gently. With an explosion of snow and sound, Nidoking was at his feet and roaring, chest puffed out and beady eyes trained on him. Blood trickled from either side of his jaws and his scales were covered in gouges.

_They had him chained to the back of the truck._ The scenario unfolded in his mind. _Dragging him along behind us._

There was a moment more of eye contact before Gary turned his back. He was hesitant about it, but without each other neither of them were going to get out alive.

"See these?" He jangled his wrists, clattering the handcuffs. "I need you to break them. I can get you out of here, if you can get me out of these."

The nidoking didn't appear to comprehend his sentence. Gary sighed with growing frustration, watching as the grunts fired away their pistols at his massive gyarados. He prayed they didn't stop, lest the beast notice him.

"Come on!" He shook them more, trying to pry his hands apart to emphasize that they were confined. "You've got a giant horn sticking off your forehead, help me out here!"

When Nidoking still drew a blank, he thought of a new plan. Turning back to face the poison-type, he lowered his head a little in demonstration. Issuing encouragement, eventually the narrow-eyed pokemon drew his head down to a level eye with Gary. Then as quickly as he could manage, Gary swept around and threw the chain between his wrists over the now level horn and yanked. Startled, Nidoking let out a bellow and wrenched his horn to one side. To Gary's dismay, this motion rattled the chains but did not break them. With anger Nidoking grabbed his sides with either massive hand and yanked downward while wrenching his foreheard upward, creating enough force to shatter the chain while effectively pulling every muscle in Gary's back.

He fell forward with a cry and landed face-first in the snow. Gunshots still rang out to his right and he got himself to his feet again slowly, ignoring the protests in his muscles. He was about to make his break for it when he remembered that Nidoking was still chained.

"Right," he muttered. "I did say I'd help you, didn't I? Shit."

The purple beast was looking at him with an expression of little faith. He still seemed caught up in the annoyance of having had to pry Gary from his face. He took a few steps forward to examine the chain, keeping one eye trained on the pokemon at all times. When he noticed that the end of the chain attached to the demolished truck was semi-broken, he yanked at it a few times before managing to pry the loop free. It had only been a matter of luck that his gyarados had fractured so much of the vehicle.

"Not trying to get away, are you?"

He spun around to find the redheaded Admin Mars spitting furiously. Her normally put together appearance was disheveled and a pistol was held in her hand, trained on his face. He brought his hands up steadily, the separated chains making tiny sounds of protest as they dangled on either side of him.

"You really think you can use our own pokemon against us?" She snapped, red lipstick smeared across her cheek. "How do you think we found you? Imbeciles!"

That comment didn't sit well with him, nor did it make any sense that he could think of. He wracked his brain for ways to talk himself out of the situation, but there didn't seem to be any.

"Whatever that's supposed to mean," he settled for. "Don't you have a gyarados to worry about?"

"The most important thing for me to worry about is you, sweetheart," she hissed. "What are you playing at, up here on Mt. Silver? This is illegal territory to Kanto natives, and ex-Champions don't get special treatment, Oak."

"So," he ignored her, "what do I have to say to avoid you putting a bullet in my head? Got any suggestions for me?"

She snarled. "Try shutting up and falling to your knees."

He didn't see a way around it, so soundlessly he knelt in the snow. A slight smirk brought more composure to her features.

"There," she mumbled, "that's not so bad, is it?"

In the next second, her mouth fell open in a soundless shriek. From her throat rose gurgles that made Gary's eyes widen and she dropped her pistol with her tremors. His first thought was to rush for it, but he was so enthralled by her terrifying convulsions that he didn't move a muscle. When Nidoking headbutted him sternly from behind he got to his feet, surprised that the poison-type had bothered to summon him at all, and rounded on where Gyrardos was still wreaking havoc to recall him. With the giant subdued, he and the nidoking rushed in the opposite direction, Gary looking over his shoulder once more to see what might have befallen Mars.

She was lying motionless on the ground – hovering over her, a giggling mismagius.

* * *

By the time Gary had found his way back to the burned wreckage of Ash Ketchum's home, the others were waiting for him.

"Gary!"

Misty was the first to cry out his name, her pale face streaked with soot that creased with worry lines. But it was Ash who raced forward the fastest and to his surprise, practically tackled him into the ground.

"Get off me," he growled, shouldering the other man away from him, who only seemed slightly deterred by it. Just because he had nearly been taken prisoner didn't mean that he had forgiven his childhood companion. Umbreon let out a joyous churr and jumped into his arms despite her size, rubbing his face affectionately. He laughed despite himself at her antics.

"I know, I know," he chastised. "You thought I left you forever, I got it."

The Galactics had not been able to carry him far after the weather had picked up, and he and Nidoking had trekked their way back within the hour, mostly due to the poison-type's senses. He wasn't quite sure how the pokemon had known which way, but he hadn't had much to lose by following him. The others relayed that they had been sheltering nearby, trying to formulate a plan when they had heard the gyarados in the distance and come racing back to the house.

All of the house had gone black and charred, but the four of them still decided to pick through it before moving on. They didn't come up with anything much, mostly only kitchen supplies made of metal had survived the flames, and they were in questionable condition.

They didn't want to risk staying too near the wreckage even for one night. Now more than ever Galactic would be after them, and Gary didn't want to think too hard about how long they had before reinforcements were sent.

"We have to head into Johto."

Gary blinked snow from his eyes as a fresh fall began. His boots kicked tufts of it aside as he walked, Umbreon trailing right against his legs as they went, never more than a foot behind him. Pikachu rode comfortably in Ash's grip, bundled under his jacket, and didn't stir from his nap as his trainer spoke.

"How?" Brock put forth, trekking beside the nidoking. "We don't have passports."

"We don't have any I.D. at all," Gary added skeptically. Misty stayed silent, on the far end of their pack from the raven-haired man.

"I know," Ash admitted, "but we can't stay here. Galactic will be looking for us – more specifically, you guys. It's not like you can head back into Kanto, either."

He had a point.

"So what happens once we're in Johto?" Gary ventured. "That's assuming we can make it past the border."

"I have some friends there," he went on. "We can contact them for help."

"Help with what?"

A bitter chuckle followed up, and all three men looked back to address Misty. Gary blinked a few times as if he were imagining it.

"Getting rid of Team Galactic?" She went on. "Getting our lives back? You've decided you can spare the time to help us with that?"

It look him a moment to answer, but Ash nodded.

"Yeah," he replied, a little defensively. "Maybe I have."

* * *

The group descended the mountain over the course of the next week. If Gary had thought the trip up was hard, he would have much preferred it over the journey down into Johto. All of their provisions had burned in Ash Ketchum's cabin, and they were reduced to literal hunting and scavenging. The most nourishing thing he had had his hands on in days was a large wild pokemon egg that they had somewhat cooked before being intimidated into putting out the fire by a large roar in the distance. Luckily, no wild parents had made an appearance, nor had the originator of the mysterious roar.

By the time they had reached the base, all four of them were dirty, in a constant state of fatigue, and possibly the hungriest that – at least Gary – had ever been. He was at least grateful that they had not been attacked by anything that they had not been able to handle.

"So now what?" He sighed, running a hand through his hair. His fingers caught between knots and grease.

"I've got an idea," Ash unclipped a pokeball from his belt and released it. Before them materialized a honey-colored bird standing about five foot.

"No fucking way," Gary swore, shock written all over his face. "Ash -!"

"You never showed us this!" Brock cut him off. Even Misty looked flabbergasted, though she was still cold-shouldering Ash and had picked it back up again after he had agreed to assist them.

"I know," he raised up his palms, a small smile crossing his features. "Don't get all worked up over her, okay? Noctowl doesn't like too much attention."

Gary stared at the nocturnal bird with peaking interest. He refrained from rushing forward and examining the abnormal pigment in her feathers and eyes. Average citizens used to call these "shiny" pokemon – there was an actual scientific name for it, but the word slipped his mind. They were incredibly rare even during the days when training pokemon had been allowed, but it had been dozens of years since he had seen one, and even then he had never been exposed to one of any species outside of his grandfather's lab.

"Where did you find her?" Brock hurried, looking amazed.

"Can we talk about this later?" Ash deflected sheepishly. "There's only a few hours before the sun comes up. I want to get Noctowl back in her ball by then."

"What's your idea?" He crossed his arms, keeping his eyes on the standoffish-looking pokemon.

"We can fly over the border," Ash began. "We'll have to go one by one, though. Noctowl can't carry us all at once."

"Wait a second," Brock placed a palm onto the shoulder plate of the beast beside him, who Gary had all but forgotten about. "What about Nidoking?"

Ash looked like he hadn't thought of that himself. The dark-haired man's lower lip dropped in an expression of guilty concern.

"Okay," he began, "don't worry about that. I got it. You and Misty can take Noctowl across to where we'll meet up, and I can take Nidoking across on foot."

"No," Brock began to protest, "I don't want –"

"This just makes the most sense, okay?" Ash held up his hands. "I've crossed the border on foot before. I can do it again. Plus, I won't be alone, necessarily…"

"That thing hardly counts," Gary rolled his eyes, and Nidoking snorted loudly as if he understood.

"I didn't mean Nidoking," Ash glowered at him. "Gary can come with me."

"What?" He balked, dropping his arms from their crossed position. "Hell no. I'm not doing it. Take Brock! It's his pokemon!"

"But you have Umbreon!" Ash tried to argue. "She can cross with us, which is easier on Noctowl, and she'll be added protection –"

"Added protection? You have a full damn team!"

"Do you even know what's out there? It might not be Galactic, but the Johto League won't be very happy if they find out gym leaders are sneaking over their border –"

"Oh yeah, that must be hard, to sneak over borders! How would _we_ ever know what that's like?"

"Would you two shut the hell up!" Misty suddenly snapped. "Are we going to get on with this or what? I'm not interested in standing around and listening to you bicker!"

Without further ado, they let Misty take Noctowl first.

An hour passed before the nocturnal bird returned. To Gary's dismay, Brock boarded her next, but he just didn't have the strength to argue about it anymore. Bringing a hand to cover his forehead, he sighed heavily and looked to Ash fleetingly.

"So," he began. "What now."

Ash looked almost embarrassed. The other man rubbed the back of his neck with his hand.

"Listen," he started, "I'm sorry I volunteered you like that."

"What does it matter now?" He rolled his eyes. "I'm here and I'm stuck here. Let's just get going."

Ash explained to him, hesitantly as if he were awaiting backlash, their plan. They would make a camp until night fell the next day, and that was when they would make their move across the actual border. Gary was not happy about hunkering down another night outside of a real bed, but he begrudgingly agreed. Since their tent and other supplies had burned down alongside Ash's house, the group of them – himself, Brock, Misty, Ash, Umbreon, Pikachu and Nidoking – had been sleeping in a clustered pile throughout their descent down Mt. Silver. Now that it was simply the two of them and the pokemon, Gary had to admit that he was less eager to pile up.

They traveled throughout the night, and soon the sun was rising in the distance. Gary didn't look forward to the light - he was too exhausted. He was spread out on his back in the grass, Umbreon nestled in the crook of his side, while Nidoking foraged nearby.

"Misty's probably not going to talk to me again anytime soon, is she?"

Ash was leaned up against a nearby tree, Pikachu dozing in his lap.

"I mean...really talk to me. More than to just yell at me."

Gary stared up at the orange sky and snorted.

"Probably not, dipshit," he answered. Ash narrowed his eyes.

"You haven't changed a bit."

For some reason, that struck a chord within him. He scowled and turned his head.

"You're right," he began, "because years under Galactic's wonderful rule hasn't changed any of us at all."

"Whatever," he brought one knee up. "So maybe it has changed you. You might be even more of an ass than you used to be."

"You could have made this damn hike alone if putting up with me was really too much to ask," Gary pointed out. "Remind me again why I'm stuck out here with you if all you're going to do is whine?"

"Okay, fine," he shrugged, still looking annoyed. "We can get along. Or at least we can pretend to. How's your life been, Gary? What have you been doing?"

"That's so condescending I can hardly keep from puking," he groaned. "Nothing as fun as playing house on top of a little mountain, I'm sure."

"_That_ was condescending."

"I'm not playing pretend with you, Ashy-boy," he decided. "Let's talk business. How long do you think it'll be before Galactic realizes where we've gone? How will they try and get us back from Johto?"

"Not very long, considering you still have that gyarados on you."

He rolled over entirely to face him completely. "What's that got to do with anything?"

"That's how they tracked us the first time," Ash shrugged, looking up from under the brim of his hat. "Their pokeballs have a tracking code."

Gary stalled. He stared at his comrade's blank face for a moment before narrowing his eyes and bringing up one open palm to express his confusion.

"You knew?" He began. "And you didn't think that was important to share?"

"I don't know for sure," he clarified. "But I think that's it. When Galactic had me, I made off with a pokemon of theirs, and it seemed like they were at my heels for weeks. Then I thought about it, and I tried releasing the pokemon and leaving the ball behind, and suddenly they couldn't find me anymore. It was like I had vanished."

"I guess that would make sense," he contemplated out loud, "if you have something you don't want anyone else in possession of, and you can throw them in jail for it if you catch them, you need a way to track that forbidden technology. Since its technology, it's not that hard to install a basic radar…fuck!"

The more he thought about it, the more it made sense, and when Admin Mars' comment came rushing back at him, he hopped to his feet.

_You think you can use our own pokemon against us? How do you think we found you?_

From his pocket he snatched the pokeball he had, a large 'X' still engraved on the front of it, and readied to throw it into the sky. In a flash, Ash was in front of him and gripping either arm.

"No!" He insisted. "You need as many pokemon as you can get –"

"This is how they're finding us!" Gary fought. "I need to keep my damn head more than I need this crazy, thirty-foot –"

"Just wait, okay! Wait until we get to Johto!" Ash strained against him, but he was fighting a losing battle as Gary began to overpower him. "Misty and Brock still have their pokemon, even if you get rid of the gyarados Galactic will still know where we are when we meet up!"

This relaxed him, and he shoved Ash away harshly and reluctantly returned the pokeball to his pocket. They stood a few feet apart, staring back at each other, equal parts of resentment fizzling in the air between them.

"I was really worried about you," Ash broke the silence.

"When Galactic had me?" Gary replied, voice still dripping with venom. A sudden question occurred to him, one he realized he had been wanting to ask for years. "That's nice. Why'd you leave me the gym?"

Ash took a second to process the question, eyes surprised as if it were coming out of the blue. Truly it was, but to Gary, it felt like a question he had long built up to.

"You heard me," he repeated. "You left me Viridian City Gym. Why?"

"I just –" he began hesitantly, tripping over his words. "I didn't…know what to do with it. I didn't have anyone else to give it to. I thought you'd want it."

"You left that other leader instructions to give it to me before you took off," he went on, "I know it wasn't just for dramatic flair. Why would you have done that?"

"I thought you'd want it!" He repeated, more exasperated, throwing out his palms. "I didn't want a gym, I wanted to be the Indigo League Champion!"

"Yeah, well," Gary began, the words rushing forward alongside strange emotions he was hardly familiar with anymore. "You couldn't have done that. Not even if you had stayed. Because _I_ became Champion."

The silence was heavy, and thick enough to batter through with fists. Gary realized he was panting steadily as if he had been running, as if the exhilaration of such a reveal was the same high of a drug. Ash looked confused, shocked – crushed, perhaps.

"Of course you did," he began steadily, shakily, like he might fall if he spoke too swiftly. "Of…course you became Champion."

"I beat Lance," he pointed to his chest. "I ran Kanto and you – you were too busy up here alone to even notice. How _embarrassing_ for you."

"So who beat you?" He asked, voice trembling. The quaking in his tone only furthered Gary's rush.

"Nobody," he smirked, "nobody ever beat me, not once. I stepped down – it gets boring after a while, facing loser after loser."

"Right," Ash seemed to be gaining composure, but only small fragments of it. "You stepped down. You were running Kanto…and you stepped down?"

"That's right," Gary crossed his arms smugly. "Not even the responsibility of the whole nation could keep me entertained."

"Of course not," he agreed shakily, still wide-eyed. "You know…maybe you shouldn't have stepped down. Galactic took over while you were running the gym, right? Maybe if…you hadn't stepped down, they wouldn't have been able to make it past you."

Gary paused. The elation he had been feeling began to seep away.

"Maybe you were exactly what Kanto needed," he continued, "but you quit. But that doesn't surprise me at all – you know why?"

Gary's arms slipped to his sides.

"Because of course you became Champion," he went on, picking up speed and volume, "you were – are, I don't care what tense – one of the best trainers the world had ever seen, the best that I ever saw! So of _course_ you beat me, why wouldn't you have? I lost, and you won! That's just the story of my whole damn life, isn't it? But of course you stepped down – because you couldn't be bothered to keep up with anything that wasn't all about you, could you? You had the shiny title and the paparazzi and the press, and once those began to fade away, just like you said, you weren't entertained. Run a nation? No, what a joke! You couldn't possibly have been bothered with something as_ petty_ as that. So you let it go. That's what you do, Gary, you forget things just as soon as you think you might be a tiny bit bored of them, no matter how much they might have meant to you in the past, and you let them go to shit."

The sun had nearly risen now. But the new sunlight did nothing to warm the chill creeping over Gary's skin.

"But it's not your fault, is it?" Ash finished, wrenching something from his pocket and tossing it out of a balled fist. It rolled into the grass behind him. "Nothing ever is. Because you got out before it became too much for you to be_ bothered_ with."

The dark-haired man stormed off into the forest, the small electric rodent tailing him with worried chitters. Umbreon was watching him as well, but turned to eye Gary sadly from her lying place as he stepped over to the object Ash had thrown. She let out a tiny worried note, as if she already knew what he might find.

Half a pokeball.


	12. Over the Border, and Through the Woods

Hey! Those of you who haven't noticed, please direct your attention to my profile for a brief second! There's a Footsoldiers poll up, and I'd really like to hear from you! Just as it says in the poll, the answers are mostly for my curiosity and will probably not have any MAJOR effects on the plot...but I do like to, as much as I am sticking to my plot, keep my readers happy, and you never know, your vote might just score your preferred ship some time in the story!

Also, there's a scene in this chapter that I feel rather...nervous to hear your feedback about! Which is why I want it! More than usual. Do review, leave thoughts, improvements, what have you...

**Disclaimer: If I owned Pokemon, it would contain a lot more angst. **

* * *

Ash slept on his own, leaving Gary thirty or so feet away to lie alone and kick himself in the ass.

He wasn't sure entirely what he was upset with himself about, but he was going to work it out eventually. He had never really thought of Kanto's demise as something he could be blamed for – he had even thought to blame the natural disaster on Cinnabar Island before himself. Did that really prove Ash's point? Was he really so much of an asshole, even after all these years that he had – or at least thought he had – spent mellowing out, that all responsibility he might have had had slipped his mind? Would Kanto have been better off with him leading it? He had stepped down from a nation to lead a city, with effectively as much power as a mayor or governor now that pokemon had been erased from the equation. He hadn't even been able to save the one city he was charged with – how could he have done anything to save a nation?

On the other hand, he was starting to feel some remorse for treating Ash the way he had been. He couldn't even blame youth or naivety anymore – now he was just an asshole, no matter how you looked at it. Sure, he had a right to be mad at Ash for getting up and ditching everyone for the time he had, but he thought back to when he had first stumbled into his old rival's now-burned house and saw his face and heard him speak. Clearly, of all people, Ash had not pictured Gary Oak being part of any search party for him.

_Why do you care?_

Why did he care?

The sun was high in the sky, but the heat was waning. It had been so cold atop Mt. Silver that he had almost forgotten that back in the civilized world it was approaching summertime. He was at least grateful for that. Playing with the discarded half a pokeball in his hand absentmindedly, he rolled so that he could see the other man in the short distance. He scowled as he studied his back.

_Way to make me feel like shit._

It occurred to him that maybe this was how Ash had felt for years after every encounter with him.

Gary got to his feet with a sigh. Reluctantly, as if every step was weighed down, he made his way over to where Ash lay and kicked him.

"The hell, Gary…"

Ash's voice was a drowsy drone. Gary swore the kick had been gentle.

"Come on. I'm hungry. Let's find something to eat."

Ash shook his head, eyes still closed, but since Gary favored studying the leaves hanging off the trees to looking at him, the message was missed.

"Come on, get up," he insisted, nudging him with his boot again. Ash refused to stir. Frustrated, Gary stepped over the drowsy figure and strode into the forest himself. Umbreon, all too happy to be on her usual nocturnal schedule again, was undisturbed from her slumber. He encountered Nidoking foraging a short way out, who dismissed his presence with a snort. He scowled, eyeing the chain still around the poison-type's neck.

_Ungrateful oaf._

After spending a few moments searching, he admitted to himself that he wasn't putting any real effort in it. He was certainly not hungry enough to be wasting energy out here looking for something to eat. He had merely been looking for a way to get Ash to engage in conversation that might end less explosively than their last, but that hadn't worked. Perhaps it was for the best – Gary knew he had never won any gold stars in communicating before.

Yet when he returned, Ash was awake.

"Why'd you wake me up?" He said groggily, still lying in the same spot.

"I was hungry."

"Doesn't look like you found anything," Ash added dismissively. Gary snorted.

"Well, maybe I could have if you'd gotten off your ass."

Ash pulled the brim of his hat over his eyes.

"Whatever."

Gary noticed then that Umbreon was missing from her dozing spot.

"Where's Umbreon?"He scanned the surrounding trees for her.

Ash didn't seem worried. "She was running around with Pikachu just now."

Right on cue, the dark-type appeared, searching the trees intently. Before Gary could greet her, she took off after a yellow shape in the leaves above. Gary narrowed his eyes. Umbreon hadn't had much contact with other pokemon that weren't trying to kill her since the loss of his team, and he was glad to see her enjoying herself with one, but it nagged at him that it was Ash's pikachu that she had picked.

"I'm going to let Meganium out for some sunlight and exercise. Do you mind?"

Gary wasn't sure why he was supposed to mind. Settling into the grass, he laid back and shook his head. In a flash, the large grass-type appeared, shaking her neck-petals in the light. She let out a pleased cry and settled next to her trainer, leathery skin rubbing up against him and the trees.

"You're not even going to explore?" Ash chuckled. Gary found himself wishing Umbreon would come back.

"You haven't explained exactly where it is we're going," Gary pointed out, distracting Ash's attention from the pokemon.

"Blackthorn City," he replied, sounding much less enthused than he had cooing to Meganium. "It's just the nearest city. There I can call Ritchie."

Gary couldn't remember ever having met a Ritchie, but of course he doubted he knew even five percent of the people that Ash associated with. Hell, he hadn't even really known Misty and Brock before their little excursion together.

"And then what?"

"I don't know. Then we plan, I guess."

* * *

They set off as soon as night fell.

Nidoking wasn't the stealthiest pokemon, but compared to Kanto's Mt. Silver border, Gary thought this was just too easy. When Ash suddenly announced after a few hours of walking that they were officially in legitimate Johto territory, Gary paused.

"That can't be it."

"It is," Ash smiled at him smugly, having eased up since his outburst the previous night. "I've done it before, but I prefer air travel for it."

"I don't see why," Gary commented suspiciously, "that was a piece of cake."

"Halt!"

Perhaps he had spoken too soon.

When a flashlight lit up the woods nearby, Ash grabbed the nearest rock and hurled it at their giant poison-type companion, and they shooed the beast jointly until he lumbered away. Umbreon had since vanished into the night, and Pikachu into the bushes.

Gary's notoriety began to suddenly catch up with him all at once. How could he pretend, if they were stopped by border patrol, that he was not Gary Oak, ex-Indigo League Champion? Besides Kanto, Johto was the nation that he had spent the most time in pre-Galactic. He had had interviews, made big city appearances, all sorts of things, especially having usurped the Johto-born Champion Lance. Sure, all of that had been years ago, but he wasn't sure that he looked much different. Dirty, ragged, and maybe a few more lines in his face, but hell, he still had the same damn_ haircut._

Though his exterior hinted nothing at his inward panic, when Ash shoved him backwards to the ground and covered the majority of his body with his own, it almost broke through his facade.

"What are you -!"

When Ash muffled his voice with a hand over his mouth, he took great offense and prepared to really use his strength to pry himself free.

"Stop, stop!" Ash whispered harshly.

"What are you doing?" He demanded, shaking lose the other man's hand. The light drew closer. "They're going to recognize me -!"

"Not if they never really _see_ you!"

Gary fell reluctantly silent after that. He cringed when Ash plopped that stupid hat of his onto his own head, smashing bangs into his eyes.

"Just – just don't freak out, okay?" Ash said shakily, which Gary mistook to mean about the approaching border patrol. "Just trust me on this."

When Gary opened his mouth to reply something snarky, he was alarmed to find the other man had pressed his lips to his. He all but forgot about the immediate threat of discovery and his head clogged with one hundred other pressing issues he simply had to address, such as the tongue working its way past his lips, the distressing (pleasant) sensation that had traveled down to his pants (which he immediately justified as a natural reaction for any guy who had lacked for weeks the privacy to take care of that sort of thing himself) and most importantly, that his assailant didn't seem to be aware that Gary Oak was not under any circumstances going to be_ anybody's_ bitch.

He used his weight to flip the pair of them so that he found himself positioned over his darker-haired counterpart. The heat between them began to dissipate when Ash pulled away and yanked his hat down further over Gary's face. Then the light came over them.

"What – oh, hell!"

The wielder of the flashlight cried out. Ash sprung to his feet, hauling Gary to the side in a heap in the grass, and stood very conveniently to further obscure any view of his travel partner. Coming back to reality, Gary realized that he was attempting to hide years of flaunted fame behind a hat, a few weeks' worth of bad stubble, and a pair of legs. A pair of legs attached to a man who…no, he couldn't be bothered with thinking about any of that right now.

He felt a strange emotion which a charismatic person such as himself was very unfamiliar with. Exposure.

"What the hell is going on here?"

A few minutes of profuse apologizing by Ash, and swearing to be gone as fast as possible, and yes sir he was aware that Johto frowned upon these things, and that they were only out so far to get a little privacy away from their very disapproving families –

And they had convinced the man that they were just some wayward Johto citizens. They walked free.

The dark did nothing to hide Ash's reddened cheeks as they walked on silently to seek out where Nidoking had headed off to. It wasn't hard to follow the trail of battered branches and twigs. Normally Gary might have filled this space with snide comments, or even asked how the hell that had just worked so easily, but even he drew a blank. Ten minutes into the search he realized something.

"Hey," he uttered, causing Ash to nearly jump. "Take your damn hat."

He held it out, smoothing and adjusting his hair with the other hand. His counterpart reached for it without looking at him and returned it to his usual spot.

"The rolling was a little overkill," Ash began slowly. Gary snorted.

"Acting is just another one of my many talents, Ashy-boy," he smirked.

_Bullshit._

He instructed the voice to kindly shut the hell up and bandaged his ego with a few more remarks.

"How'd you know that would work, anyway?"

"The majority of Johto is like that," Ash shrugged. "I've seen it before."

"With your boyfriend?" Gary laughed raucously. "Should I be jealous, Ashley?"

"Fuck off," he scowled, but the moon lit up his still-red cheeks. Gary's ego recovered almost completely at the sight.

"Did I hit the jackpot?" He carried on. "You're blushing!"

"No, Gary," he said in a rather convincing tone. "I've never had a boyfriend. What are you, ten years old?"

"Whatever you say," Gary sneered, but for all the immaturity he was showing he could not let it drop. "Maybe _I've_ just left you blushing. I've heard that a kiss with thee Gary Oak is just that good."

"Whatever," Ash dismissed, still flustered. Gary soaked in the power rush. "I'm sure you've had more girlfriends than you can count, right, Mr. Ex-Champ?"

"I don't really date, sorry to burst your bubble," he cackled, "I'm not a total _faggot_."

As soon as the words had left his mouth, he regretted them, and there were very few things that Gary could say he truly regretted saying in his life. Ash scowled at him disgustedly, as if Gary had thrown a punch at him.

"Wow," he laughed dryly, "you'll fit in just fine here."

He hadn't even meant it like that – he had been talking about relationships, love, stupid flowery bullshit, regardless of what the sex of the people involved was. He really had nothing against that sort of thing, and he knew that his choice of words had been immature and stupid. But for all the mental backlash he put himself through, he didn't speak a single word of apology to his counterpart.

The timing of the mistake had been another error in itself, and he could not have changed even with an apology how inconveniently close he had dropped the slur to their, well…distraction method. The entire next day of travel Ash hardly spoke a word to him, and this time Gary didn't pester him about it. His remorse faded away into irritation and frustration, as if Ash had no right to be annoyed with him. He decided that Ash should have known that he was only pulling his leg. Of course he hadn't meant it - and his comrade was an emotional pansy for being so uptight about it.

It wasn't until they finally arrived on the path of Route Forty-Five that he heard Ash speak for more than a moment.

"Hey!"

The voice startled them both. Gary hunched his shoulders and hastily faced away from the voice, hearing footsteps flopping in the dirt towards them.

"Hey, kid!" To his surprise, Ash sounded almost inviting. "What are you doing out here?"

Gary looked over his shoulder. Standing in front of Ash was a small boy – he couldn't have been older than nine – dressed in blue jeans, a black muscle tee and brown leather boots perhaps a size too large. The sleeve holes of his shirt hung down to the child's mid-abdomen, revealing skinny arms and a chest without contour. Thick black curls hung from his head and he tossed them away from his eyes in a bothered fashion.

"I'm not a kid," he huffed back, not sounding friendly in the least. "I want a pokemon battle! I know you two are trainers, with your umbreon and your – your – that thing!"

Gary blinked. The boy was pointing an accusing finger at Pikachu as if it were the electric-types fault that he didn't know what his species was called – reminding him that they were not in Kanto at the moment. But that was not the only thing reminding him of that fact, as the green, scaly creature rising to about the boy's waist was another hint. In Kanto, you would be arrested for that. In Kanto, he would have been arrested just for uttering that phrase, the very one that Gary had essentially built a career on –_ I want a pokemon battle!_

But here the boy was, demanding it of them as if it were a service he were entitled to.

Gary decided that the kid was too young to recognize a former elite, especially one of a different nation. He had probably stepped down before the boy was even born. He turned forward to face the action.

"What's your name then, kid?" Ash went on.

"Eric," the kid replied. "Now I want a battle!"

"I get that," the other man chuckled. "But your larvitar doesn't look that….experienced, Eric. I don't think we should –"

"You think you're a better trainer than me?" Eric interrupted angrily. "Go on, Larvitar! Show 'em!"

The dual-type did not move. Instead, he slipped behind his young trainer and cowered.

"Go on!" Eric insisted, pointing for emphasis. "Ugh, you're always embarrassing me like this!"

It was quite a show, to watch the young boy hassle his obviously distressed pokemon. Gary snuck a glance at Ash, who was trying to hide a smile. When Eric began to chase the larvitar, who was caught between wanting to use his trainer for cover and fleeing from him, Gary laughed.

"You think it's funny?" Eric nabbed the nervous creature and hauled him to face his opponents. "Go on! I bet your stupid little rat thing can't even fight!"

Ash sighed, and Gary tried to control his fit. Whispering something to Pikachu, he sent the electric-type down his shoulder to face the opponent.

"Tackle!" Eric yelled. The larvitar hesitated, but then rushed in while Pikachu dodged at a mere jog. "Bite! Scratch!"

God, they were the most basic of attacks. Umbreon had come up beside him to get a closer look, her ears perked. He couldn't tell if she were curious or confused. The joke match went on for a few moments longer before Eric decided he needed to take matters into his own hands. Above him dangled a thin branch, which he leapt up and dislodged from the tree. Wielding the blunt, broken end in the air, he raced up behind Pikachu, who was gingerly avoiding a sloppy scratch attack.

"Hey -!" Gary called out once it dawned on him what the boy was attempting to do. Ash cried out to Pikachu. Even Umbreon seemed to notice, and she rushed forward, the rings on her fur pulsating light.

_"Piiiii -!"_

The result was instantaneous. Pikachu screeched and the air surrounding him exploded into crackling sparks and bolts. Gary's mouth dropped open in horror as the electricity channeled up the branch. The boy's eyes rolled back and he hit the grass, drool leaking from one side of his mouth. A thin sheen of sweat had somehow come to cover his skin.

Gary and Ash cursed at the same moment. Wearing a look of pure panic, Ash rushed forward and fell beside the unconscious Eric, arms held out but motionless. Umbreon, who had darted away from the shock, joined him at the child's side and even offered a head rub to his cheek, though she seemed displeased when sweat dampened her forehead. Gary looked around. He had no idea what for. Even Nidoking had lumbered back into the area at the sound, distracted from his foraging. Not surprisingly, even after scanning the area several times, Gary found that no first aid kits or pediatricians fell from the sky to assist them.

"Gary!" Ash brought his attention back to reality. "Come on, please –"

He was taking the kid's pulse. Where he had learned to do that, Gary sure didn't know. Meanwhile the larvitar was screeching up a storm with his throaty voice. He was sure he couldn't take one more bleat out of the thing when Pikachu jolted from his place and head-butted him. The larvitar didn't even make a sound and was out like a light before he hit the grass.

"Pikachu!" Ash tossed a rock at his companion, who scampered away and looked back at him with a sad mewl. "What the hell are you doing?"

Gary decided that if there was any time for him to attempt kindness, understanding, and patience with Ash Ketchum, right now was that time.

"Hold on a second," Gary approached, kneeling down to examine the unconscious figure. "It might not be as serious –"

"Gary," he exclaimed, not waiting for him to finish. "Pikachu might have just killed someone – killed a kid! That's not serious? Oh my God –"

But already the boy was stirring. His eyes, normal again, widened and he tried to bolt upright, but both Ash and Gary were in the way. Disoriented, he began to mutter incoherently and his breathing picked up pace until his large blue eyes were welling with tears.

"Hey, hey," Ash began in a soft voice, "don't worry, okay? Everything's just fine. See, the worst part is over."

Still tears began to fall in thick streams down his cheeks. Upon further inspection, Gary realized that the boy's skin looked completely normal, if only sweaty. He lacked the tree root patterns Gary had sported for a few days after Pikachu had shocked him, which meant a much lower voltage.

"You – you can't just hit pokemon you don't know," Ash went on, faltering over his words a bit. It wasn't like either of them had any kid experience – or at least, he assumed Ash hadn't gained any over the past dozen years if he had been living alone that whole time. "It's dangerous. You could really get hurt."

Whimpering, Eric continued to stare up at Ash alone. Then he rounded his blue eyes on Gary.

"Well?" He stammered. "Are you gonna l-laugh at me again?"

"Look, kid –" he began an apology, but did not get the chance to finish it.

"My dad doesn't let me play in the woods alone," Eric sniffed hard, pulling something from his pocket. "I'll show you something to laugh at!"

He hurled a pokeball over Gary's head. He heard it open behind him, and turned away from Eric for a moment in unison with Ash to see what was happening. He sort of wished he hadn't.

Behind them stood a beast that towered over all of them, champagne scales glittering in the morning sunlight and large leathery green wings splayed out into the sky.

At the sight of the two of them standing over the crying child it bared its horrific fangs, saliva hanging in strings, and the dragonite let out a furious roar.


	13. Stalked

**Disclaimer: I don't own Pokemon.**

* * *

Lumbering footsteps brought the dragon-type ever closer as both Gary and Ash fumbled to their feet. They had all but forgotten their concern for the boy and were now far more worried about their own safety.

"Kid," Gary snapped, "we didn't mean for Pikachu to shock you, alright? Call off your pokemon."

"My name is Eric!" He cried indignantly, wiping the drying tears from his face.

"Alright, Eric!" Gary's temper flared and he got to his feet. "How about you don't go around smacking pokemon with sticks, and you'll never get your little baby ass cheeks nearly fried again, huh?"

_"Pikachu!"_

The little electric-type had charged for the dragon that dwarfed him, kicking up static as he ran. Ash was frantically pulling a ball from his pocket.

"Umbreon, get out there, will you?" Gary commanded, and his dark-type rushed towards where Pikachu was building up a charge. She dodged around a lumbering step of the creature and slammed into its side, but the hip-heavy beast was a sturdy and hardly swayed.

"Feraligatr!" Ash called, freeing the scaly blue beast from his ball. He stood perhaps half the size of his opponent, and still a good foot taller than Gary himself. "Pikachu, get out of there! Let him handle this!"

For a moment Pikachu looked over his shoulder, and Gary could almost read offense in his expression. His thought was further backed up when Pikachu turned back around and ignored Ash totally, throwing a thunderbolt the dragonite's way. The hit was hard enough to make the dragon-type scream and sway, but after it subsided he was still standing.

"Pikachu, that's enough!" Ash shouted, his voice rising. _"Return!"_

The small pokemon was already panting from the exertion. There was a look of disappointment when he dodged a sweep of the dragonite's tail and faltered his step slightly, where Ash caught his breath, and Pikachu then really did return. But he refused to take his usual post on his trainer's shoulder. In fact he hardly looked his trainer's way at all, but watched the battle a few feet from him.

"Get an ice punch ready!" Ash shouted. "Gary, can you have Umbreon distract it?"

Gary nodded. He relayed a few commands and the dark-type was off, darting around and dodging blows while landing a few bites here and there. If they had the advantage of night, Gary was certain Umbreon could be of much more use. She could practically vanish into the shadows. But the dragonite seemed to be much more interested in the larger of its two opponents, and when it raced towards Feraligatr the water-type threw both fists forward at once and connected with its chest. Dragonite let out a wail and when Ash's pokemon pulled away, bits of skin and scale went with him, the reptilian fists and dragon's chest stuck together for a moment like a child trying to pry his tongue from a frozen pole. Where the scales had torn away Gary could see flesh blackening – rapidly developing frostbite.

"Come on!" Eric was screaming. "_Come on_, Dragonite!"

It appeared that Feraligatr had the upper hand. Gary's confidence in this only increased when a shrill shriek mingled with the two reptile's roars and Misty's golbat came into view.

"Confuse ray!"

The air around the flying creature's mouth rippled like water, creating a ray of sound unheard to anyone else that reached the dragon-type and caused it to cry out painfully. The dragonite swung its head back and forth before struggling to take a few steps, nearly tripping over its own feet.

"You're not being fair!" Eric was screaming over the noise. "You're not being fair at all!"

When Misty and Brock raced into sight, Noctowl swooping overhead, the big beast had fallen to the ground. Its scales heaved with every breath, and its jaws still curled back in a snarl.

"What is going on?" Misty cried, recalling her golbat. She was panting heavily, as was the other man coming up beside her.

"We ran into a little roadblock," Gary glared at the little boy, who had no qualms about folding his arms and staring back.

"Eric," Ash began, returning Feraligatr and Noctowl, "call back your pokemon."

"No!" Eric shouted. "He's fine! He can still fight!"

Gary was sure that could be true - if he picked up the little brat by the neck and throttled him, that dragonite surely would find the strength to rip him limb from limb. Not that he was going to test his theory.

Or that he wanted to, of course.

"Your name's Eric, right?" Brock was already kneeling next to the boy, who surprisingly recoiled only slightly and nodded. "How about this – you recall your dragonite, and we can take you home. Not that you _need_ any escorts, with strong pokemon like that."

"He's not mine," Eric sniffed, but he did sift a pokeball from his pocket and recall the dragonite. Brock leaned in a little closer and whispered something he couldn't hear into Eric's ear, who to Gary's surprise laughed.

"I'm from Blackthorn," Eric replied.

"That's great!" Brock looked enthused. "See, we need to get to Blackthorn, but we don't know the way. Maybe you could show us?"

"But Brock –"

Brock cut Ash off with an open palm in the air.

"Yeah," Eric said hesitantly. "I guess I can take you there. But only if I'm the leader!"

Brock struck up the deal. Gary rolled his eyes at the thought of some nine-year-old with a temper giving him orders for the next few hours. The reuniting was unceremonious between the group – Brock and Eric had struck up conversation at the front, with Nidoking now glued to the man's side again. Misty was trailing along beside them, still unwilling to share the same space of air with Ash. She was now accompanied by Pikachu, who also happened to be giving his trainer the cold shoulder. That left Ash and Gary at the very back, Umbreon patting along dutifully beside him.

"What's your little rat's deal?" Gary raised a brow at the sight of the electric-type hopping along next to Misty.

"He's just frustrated," Ash shrugged, but his face belied true disappointment. "He really wanted me to ask him to take on that dragonite."

"Feraligatr was a better choice," Gary for once found himself agreeing with his counterpart, "dragon-types are weak against ice moves."

"I know," he sighed, "but Pikachu doesn't care. He likes to fight and he hates to lose. I think he misses the days when I used to ask him to take care of everything for me. It didn't matter if it were a rock or a ground-type, I'd still let him give it his best shot."

"Sounds like he's becoming a bitter old man," Gary humored him, despite doubting what Ash was telling him. Ash talked like he could tell what Pikachu was thinking. Sure, sometimes Gary felt convinced that he saw emotions like remorse, or regret, or passion written on Umbreon's features or in her voice, but he dismissed them with the facts. Chances were that most pokemon couldn't feel things like that, or if they did could not express them. The ones that could were rare, and they certainly weren't mundane, below-average intelligence species like a pikachu – not that he would ever bother trying to explain that to Ash.

"He doesn't understand that he's getting older," Ash lamented on. "I can't just put him in situations like that anymore. His attacks might be just as strong, but he's not as quick as he used to be and he tires out so much faster. I have to pick and choose his battles, because…"

_You don't know how many more he has left in him._

He glanced at the dark-type trotting alongside him. His eyes scanned her grayed muzzle and the salt and pepper effect growing at the tip of her tail. He let the words go unspoken.

"You know," Gary thought, "if you evolved him, he would…" he didn't want to say_ 'last a little longer'_…that wasn't the right sentence at all. It made Ash's starter sound like an appliance or a car, like a thunder stone was something he could just pop right in to give Pikachu a few more years of battery life.

"Yeah," Ash answered while he had tried to sort out his thoughts, and Gary was grateful that he had understood and answered without waiting for him to come up with a polite follow up. "I know. But he doesn't want to evolve."

"I don't see how he could know."

"He's never wanted to," Ash shrugged. "Just like how he doesn't like pokeballs. A few years ago, before he started to really slow down, I had a friend bring me a thunderstone up Mt. Silver. He had just evolved his own pikachu for the same reason. But as soon as he brought it out, Pikachu took off and hid. He didn't come out until after Ritchie left, and even then he wouldn't come near me until I had him watch me toss the thunderstone off the side."

"The side of what?"

"The mountain."

"You tossed a _thunderstone_ down Mt. Silver?" Gary tried to control his volume. "Don't you know how much those things are worth?"

"I didn't have any use for it," Ash didn't seem to think anything of it. "And Pikachu didn't trust me with it."

Gary frowned a bit. He tried to imagine if, back before Umbreon had evolved from an eevee, she had somehow indicated that she did not want to evolve. If he had tried to take an evolutionary stone to her, though he never had, and she had ran from him, even though they both knew that she was deteriorating physically and this could prolong it a few years. Would he have forced it on her? Tricked her into it to extend her life for his own benefit?

When she rubbed her forehead against his thigh, he still didn't know.

"He doesn't thank me for going easy on him," Ash went on, "and he never will, but I just have to be careful with him. He'll be fine if he just listens to me."

Gary nodded in agreement. Judging by the way the electric-type had withdrawn from the battle earlier, even if it were with reluctance, Pikachu would obey Ash Ketchum.

* * *

It had been awhile since Gary had seen Blackthorn City.

He had never been sure why the place had been dubbed a city. It's cabin-style houses and natural landscape hardly struck him as city-like. There were no roads, hardly any concrete, and no building stood taller than a single story besides the gym. He felt uneasy watching the building from across town.

"We'll make this brief," Ash quietly reassured them, as if Gary had spoken his concerns aloud. Lance had come from this place, and Gary knew his cousin ran the gym nowadays. He didn't want to run into anyone who might know the rather talented family, lest they recognize him.

"Alright," Misty began slowly. Her tone was stern and her blue eyes fell upon the small child with them. "We're here. You should be getting home – your parents are probably worried."

"I can't go home with my dad's dragonite hurt," Eric exclaimed as if they should have known. "He'll freak."

"What do you expect us to do, kid?" Gary rolled his eyes. He had grown tired of the little brat hours ago.

"You're_ trainers_," Eric spoke slowly like he were addressing a toddler. "Can't you just heal him for me?"

"We're not exactly stocked up on potions, Eric," Brock replied, the only adult left who seemed to be able to tolerate the child's attitude.

"No, just use the Pokemon Center!" He clarified exasperatedly. "You get free service with a trainer license – I_ know,_ my brother told me. You can't fool me."

There was an awkward silence. It occurred to Gary that Umbreon was standing beside him in broad daylight and he had no license. Had he entirely forgotten what a civilized nation ran like? Pokemon possession might be legal in Johto, but one could not just run amok with creatures that possessed the power to level cities. You needed documentation, proof that you were capable enough to handle the responsibility. In pre-Galactic Kanto they had installed the information on your pokedex, and a computer would pull it up when scanned, including all of the pokemon you had registered. It was illegal to carry pokemon without such documentation and every pokemon needed to be registered through a Pokemon Center. There were numerous updates available as a trainer increased in skill – one that identified you as a gym leader or a Champion, for example. Some pokemon required special certification to be able to carry them on you due to the danger they posed – like gyarados. He fingered the ball in his pocket. Another thing he didn't have.

"Right," Brock said slowly, but no one moved. Then Misty cleared her throat.

"Why don't you meet us there, then?" She offered. "We need to check into a hotel first – alright, Eric?"

The blue-eyed boy nodded, and surprisingly did not argue the matter further before running off in the direction of the Center. The group sighed collectively with relief. Misty then drew her attention back towards them.

"We've got to go."

She verbalized all of their thoughts. Brock expressed some remorse about having tricked a child, but even he realized that staying was a danger to all of them. Ash made a quick stop into a local store to use the phone and reached Ritchie, who reported that he would be on his way and to lay low outside of the city for the hour or so trip. When the charizard touched down outside of the city there were no screams, no sound of any sort of recognition of the event from within Blackthorn, and Gary had to remind himself that he was in a place where tamed pokemon were not a sign of the police descending down onto your city for another raid.

Ritchie had a head of messy brown hair kept under a green hat and a worn leather jacket. He stood approximately the same height as Ash did, and the two embraced and exchanged hellos. Gary flashed back to he and Ash Ketchum's reunion, with clenched fists and bloody noses.

"How have you been?" Ritchie was beaming, and his hands still held a grip on the dark-haired man's elbows. "Oh, never mind, this really isn't the time or the place – introductions, please!"

Brock shook the newcomer's hand. Gary, reminding himself of who he was, did the same with a smile that only barely hinted at snide. When Misty introduced herself, there was a flicker of alarm on Ritchie's face, and he quickly wiped his expression clean.

"I've heard a lot about you," he added with a smile. Misty didn't look impressed.

They began travel plans immediately. Ritchie and Ash took charge, delegating who would ride where, and the two seemed to be on the same page with every idea. Gary sat back, waiting to find some sort of flaw, but it didn't seem that he would. With Brock and Misty riding atop Ritchie's charizard with him, and he and Ash along with their pokemon on his, the only problem he could predict was Ash's charizard's injuries, but Ritchie remedied this with a quick trip to the Pokemon Center – thankfully, he did not ask them to accompany him, lest they have to explain that they could not since they had tricked a little boy into dutifully waiting for them there. Gary counted themselves lucky that the vast majority of Johto still used paper licensing – since Ritchie's documentation did say that he carried a charizard, the Center had not detected that he was perhaps not healing his own pokemon.

"Wait," Brock began hesitantly. "What about…"

Gary finished the sentence mentally with a curse. God, why were they still lugging that damn thing around?

"Can't we just ditch the stupid nidoking?" He growled lowly, but nobody paid him any attention. Ritchie was eyeing the purple beast carefully, who was munching passively at a few low hanging branches.

"Do you have anything to put him out with?" The brunette suggested. "I bet your charizard could carry him Ash, if he were just sedated."

The light bulb clicked in his mind first, but he was hesitant to voice it. He glanced at the redhead nearby, and watched as her face paled ever so slightly. Her hands flew nervously into her pockets, as if to draw attention away from the objects occupying them. But it was too late.

"Misty," Gary began, but that was all he had the chance to get out.

"No," she interrupted, "no, no, absolutely not."

Brock had turned his attention away from Ritchie and Ash and towards the pair of them now. His expression gave away that the idea was now dawning on him as well. The pair behind him were looking confused.

"Misty, there's a safe way to go about this," Brock tried to begin again for him, "it won't be –"

"No!" Misty took a firm step backward. "No way in hell. That disgusting thing will never see the outside of a pokeball again if I have anything to say about it."

"We don't have much of a choice," Brock tried to continue. "Unless you have a better idea."

Misty was silent, but her cheeks were now flushed with color and she appeared more indignant than fearful. With a growl she sifted the pokeball from her pocket and threw it in Gary's direction, who caught it unexpectedly only by a few fingers.

"Fine!" She snapped. "But if you think I'm going to hang around for it, there's no way. You take care of it, Gary. What happened before was your entire fault anyway!"

He wished that he had a valid argument, and searched frantically for one that held water as Misty instructed Ritchie to climb atop his charizard. Nobody seemed eager to argue with the frustrated redhead and soon, she, Ritchie and Brock were preparing to take off. Somehow in the past few moments, Gary had gotten stuck with the dirty work, and Ash looked equally confused.

"That nidoking's going to be much heavier than any of us," Ritchie pointed out, positioning himself in the rider's saddle and fastening safety ropes to Misty and Brock. "Your charizard should have the least weight possible if he's going to carry him, Ash."

Ash nodded. Gary noticed when his eyes flickered in Umbreon's direction.

"No," he narrowed his eyes.

"Gary, just think about it," Ash began quickly, holding up his hands. "Zippo can't hold any more people. But Umbreon weighs less than we do – and it'll be safer that way for her, we'll be riding bareback and Ritchie has harnesses."

He crossed his arms and scowled but couldn't ignore the facts. If it were safer travel for Umbreon, it would be alright by him. He leaned down and patted the dark-type's forehead before instructing her to board the giant reptile. She seemed hesitant, and attempted to disembark when she realized Gary was not coming up to join her.

"No," he ordered, holding out his hand. "Stay, girl. Brock and Misty will take care of you."

He felt a twinge of worry watching the orange beast lift off into the air, but he pushed it aside.

"So…" Ash began slowly. Pikachu was staring up into the sky, back turned to his trainer. If Gary were anthropomorphizing, he would suspect that the little rodent was wishing he were already on his way to the next town and not with the man who now consistently held him back. "What's in the ball?"

Gary rolled the machine in his hand and looked back at the large purple pokemon still browsing in the trees.

"A parasect," he explained. "We've never used it in battle before. We've never actually used it for really anything before, besides…never mind. The point is that we need to use it to knock out that giant toddler Brock has us dragging around."

The nidoking exhaled loudly, but Gary reminded himself that he could not possibly understand human speech.

"It's one of the ones you stole, right?" Ash asked. Gary nodded. "It can't be too hard, then. If it was being used to guard the entrance to Mt. Silver it's got to be experienced. I'm sure it knows sleep powder."

"It's experienced, I'm sure…" he trailed off while his mind flipped through images of Misty frozen, gripping her chest, of spoon feeding her water, of closing her unblinking eyes. "Come on. Let's just get this over with. The sooner we can move on the better."

The two released the parasect. That pungent smell wafted up his nostrils again, making him cringe. Why did the damn thing smell so bad? Was that typical of parasect? Ash didn't seem as revolted as Gary felt. The thing sat in the grass lamely, and Nidoking ignored it fully in favor of berry picking. Gary and Ash glanced at each other.

"Are you going to do it or what?"

"Why should I have to do it?" Ash balked. "It's your parasect."

"It's Misty's parasect."

"So? You have the ball."

"Fine, whatever," he grumbled, turning back towards the mushroom pokemon. "Parasect – sleep powder!"

Nothing happened.

"…Way to go."

"Oh, shut the hell up!" Gary dismissed him, brow furrowing. "Parasect, use sleep powder!"

There was a heavy silence filled only by the sound of Nidoking sloppily munching leaves.

"This pokemon is the most useless piece of shit!" Gary cried. When he noticed Ash trying to hold back laughter, he spun on him. "Alright, you see what you can do with it – you were a League Champion, right? Oh wait,_ no_."

Ash somehow managed to shrug off Gary's rather low blow. Instead the black-haired man leaned down and tried to beckon the attention of his starter – who turned away from him with a chitter.

"Come on, Pikachu," he pouted, "I could really use your help right now…"

The electric-type might have glanced just barely backward.

"Could you send the tiniest little spark at Parasect for me?" Ash continued, sickeningly sweet. "Please? And here's the deal. If it gets out of hand, I'll let you personally bring it down for me. Deal?"

Pikachu took a moment to consider the offer, or maybe just to ignore his trainer. But then he hopped over towards the parasect and considered the grass-and-bug-type before him. Gary backed away and grabbed Ash by the sleeve to pull him along as well as the electric-type's cheeks sparked.

"Parasect," Ash began, timing his command with his starter's preparation. As soon as the spark fired off, he finished it. "Sleep powder!"

The sparks jolted across the rubbery mushroom and Pikachu darted away. Gary threw his arm over his nose for good measure and in an unexpected burst the air was filled with blue spores. He held his breath as the two men dashed a few yards back, taking refuge outside the dome of falling chemicals, Pikachu keeping in tow with them. He heard Nidoking snort and grunt, before a frustrated roar broke through the trees. Gary pulled out the pokeball and recalled Parasect as the poison-type came lumbering angrily through the brush in their direction.

"Watch out!" Ash shouted at him, and he ducked out of the way of the angry male's rampage. He let out a bellow and staggered a bit, but as he whipped his head back and forth through the trees Gary noticed his eyelids were sagging. Within moments, he had fallen to one knee.

"Sorry, buddy," Ash whispered as the poison-type grunted and lowered himself to the ground. Gary couldn't muster up any words – he wasn't the least bit sorry.

"Come on," Gary sighed, glad to be done with the ordeal. "Let's get him up in the air."

It had been years since Gary had flown on any type of pokemon. He had taken the occasional plane when he really needed to travel vast distances across Kanto, which had been few and far between instances since the takeover by Galactic, but other than that he had all but forgotten what air travel felt like. He found himself wishing that the leathery back of Ash's charizard had some sort of harness like Ritchie's had.

"You might want to hold onto me," Ash suggested, but Gary scowled. The other man's hands were secured around the joint connecting the giant reptile's wings to his body, the only obvious hold, and so he placed his palms just behind them and hoped he could keep a firm enough grip. But when Charizard, with his forearms gripping the unconscious nidoking to his body, lifted into the air the unusual weight took extra propelling to raise them off the ground and jerked Gary around a bit. He held his composure and felt thankful that he had allowed Ritchie's charizard to transport Umbreon.

"Hey…"

"Huh?"

Gary cleared his throat, then rolled his eyes at his own antics. He wasn't even sure if this conversation was going to be worth it.

"About what I said at the border...I shouldn't have said it."

Ash was silent. Gary studied the back of his hat.

"So is that, like…" the dark-haired man began, "…your apology, or something?"

What the hell? Wasn't it an obvious apology? What did Ash want him to do, grovel?

_That's not going to happen._

"If you don't want to accept it, fine," he replied irritably and crossed his arms. They hit a bit of turbulence which sent his palms right back to the scaly platform. "I just thought I'd fucking say something."

"You're fine," Ash shrugged. "Don't worry about it."

He wasn't worried about it. But it didn't take a genius to see through that sentence – how many women had he taken weeks to call back, had he ditched, had he been a complete ass to, only to hear_ 'nothing, you're fine'_ when he asked what he had done wrong?

Not that he had tried to apologize to any of them. Not even as pitiful an attempt as he had just made for Ash.

What the hell was he doing comparing Ash to those women, anyway? He shook his head.

Their descent was slow, but he could still feel the gentle pull of force that wanted to drag him upwards. When Charizard twisted slightly he grabbed onto Ash's waist instinctively, and fumbled to quickly re-position them where they had been.

"Hey, Charizard," Ash called out. "Easy landing, okay?"

The fire-type snorted, sending light smoke billowing back into Gary's face. Then, there was a sudden drop as Charizard pinned his wings back against his body and began to drop, sending Gary's hands back to gripping the other man's jacket. Ash was shouting orders, but Gary could hardly hear a thing over the wind tunnel that the scaly wings had created around him. Ash lowered his body, using one hand to keep his hat anchored to his head and the other to keep a firm grip on his starter.

Then, it was over. They were sailing smoothly again, with no evidence of their sudden fall other than Gary's wind tossed hair.

"Damn it, Charizard!" Ash was outraged, and though Gary could not see it from his position his face was reddening. Their living perch vibrated with throaty rumbles.

"Great," Gary narrowed his eyes. "So your beast wants to kill us, and now he's laughing at us. You can't even control him."

"He's just…" Ash trailed off fumblingly, settling for a tame answer, "…got an attitude. And a shitty sense of humor."

Though the rest of the trip occurred without incident, even Pikachu seemed annoyed, little sparks flying out of his cheeks every time a grunt or rumble was heard from the massive fire-type. Ritchie's house was a modest one-floor home on the outer edge of Mahogany Town, and once they had landed the brunette ushered them inside without much flair. Gary was glad to be within walls again. He was getting tired of wondering when he might be recognized. The living room was quaint – two couches and a single love seat, with no television or fireplace. The kitchen connected to it without interruption, sporting only a refrigerator, stove and sink. He informed them that there was a bathroom and his bedroom down the hall, as well as the spare bedroom in the basement.

"We have a bit of an issue, though," he went on, squinting. "Not all of you can room in the basement…"

Gary didn't see a problem with this at all. He had spent far too much time in the makeshift basement hideaway in Viridian City Gym, and he wasn't too eager to start doing it again.

"Count me out, then," he volunteered, expecting to receive instructions on where to find the other suitable guest space. When Ritchie smiled gratefully, he got the notion that he had agreed to something unpleasant.

"Thanks, Gary," the other man sighed, "you and somebody else can take the couches."

He resisted the urge to curse.

"I'm not taking a couch," Misty clarified flatly, not looking the least bit amused. As if to dare anyone to challenge her, she started off for the stairs. The four men glanced about one another before it was wordlessly decided that Brock would follow her. After all, who could imagine Misty allowing Ash Ketchum to share a guest bedroom with her?

Gary was grateful for another shower. He had used to be accustomed to this life – constant travel, wash-downs at a riverside, cooking instant meals over a fire. But that had been when he was making his way in between cities for badges, and accompanied by an entire team of loyal pokemon. He had been younger then.

Truthfully he was not that old. He wondered briefly if it were Galactic's takeover that had sucked the vibrant youth out of him and not years.

The couch was too short for him. His feet kicked over the armrest at the other side and a pillow propped his head up against the other. A thin blanket was all he needed in the already warm house. His eyes felt heavy, barely able to glance at his counterpart nestled onto the other couch, yellow rodent burrowed into his blanket. Umbreon paced near the window, staring out into the moonlight. He watched her while guilt nagged at him.

"Still awake?"

The voice was a whisper, but both men turned to look. It was Ritchie, green hat now missing from his head and clad in sweats.

"Sorry," he glanced at Gary, "I didn't mean to wake you."

The way he turned his attention right back towards Ash made Gary feel like an accessory.

"So…" Ritchie began, and he took a seat on the armrest of Ash's couch, causing the other man to move his feet for him. "Misty, huh?"

Gary narrowed his eyes.

"Yeah," Ash said in return.

"That's her?"

"Yep…"

The black-haired man didn't seem any more eager to continue the conversation than Gary felt about watching it.

"Do you think she'll be alright here?" He asked. "I mean, with you staying here too…"

"She'll be fine," Gary rolled his eyes, and both other men looked at him as if they had forgotten he were even in the room. "You'd think she was some porcelain doll the way you're talking about her."

There was a moment of silence. Ritchie got to his feet again.

"Sorry," he added. "Just making sure everyone's…comfortable here. Oh, and Ash?"

Ash looked up.

"May might be stopping by tomorrow. Just thought I'd give you a heads up."

He made his way towards the hall and down back to where his room was located. His attention was caught at the name, but it was only a habit. He still picked up on his sister's name after all these years of minimal contact. Sometimes he even caught himself looking up when somebody mentioned the month of the year. Then Gary noticed that Ash was watching him with narrowed eyes.

"What?" He said harshly.

"You could have been a little nicer," Ash sighed. "He's just trying to be helpful."

"Well, excuse me if I don't like talking about Misty like she's not here," he rolled his eyes. "Who's May?"

"Nobody," Ash rolled away from him.

"Sounds like somebody," Gary smirked, turning towards him on his side. "What, is that your girlfriend?"

"No."

"Then what's the big deal? You're not planning some big surprise by shipping my sister here, are you?"

Ash stared at him without amusement. "There is no big deal."

"So who is she? If I'm going to meet her tomorrow, who cares?"

Ash groaned. Gary grinned at the sound, knowing he was getting to him.

"Seriously, Gary?" He pulled the blanket up farther, nudging Pikachu slightly, who squeaked. "Go to sleep."

Gary smiled. He eyed the red and white hat sitting on the coffee table near them. Quietly he pushed back the blankets and crept over to where it sat, picking it up with his fingers.

"What are you – Gary!"

Ash flew off of the couch, dislodging Pikachu from his blanket burrow with an annoyed spark. Gary turned and dodged around the love seat, rushing for the door. Ignoring the dew on the grass that dampened his socks, he hurried out into the dark, noticing briefly that Umbreon was rushing out after him, probably more excited to be out at night than interested in what he could be doing. Ash ran after him, his pursuer not even bothering to keep from disturbing the rest of the house.

"Gary, seriously, I'm not fucking around! Give me my hat!"

Ash caught up to him and lunged for the hat. He held it just out of reach, shoving back at the other's chest to deflect his grab.

"Quit being so damn difficult," he laughed snidely. "Just tell me what's up with May!"

"You're such a –" he grumbled the rest of his sentence. "Fine! She's a friend of mine. Of ours - me and Ritchie. She's from Hoenn and I have no idea what she's doing here, but she's a pokemon coordinator so it must have something to do with doing a rotation in Johto. Are you happy?"

"One last thing," Gary smirked, keeping the hat out behind him. "If she's just your friend, why were you being so evasive?"

"You know what, just keep the damn hat if you want it so bad."

Ash stomped back into the house. Gary was left feeling entertained and twirled the hat around his finger like a trophy before he realized that he had not seen Umbreon since she had darted past him out the door. Looking around, he cupped a hand around his mouth.

"Umbreon!"

There was no reply. He knew from experience that there was no point in searching the night landscape for her. She practically melted into it.

"Umbreon! Come on, girl!"

He stood in silence for a moment, waiting to pick up the sound of her paw steps. Instead he heard the sound of crackling energy, and when he turned to face it he fell out of the way of a ball of dark matter which exploded nearby as he hit the ground.

"What the –_ Umbreon!_" This time his tone was not friendly. The dark-type was staring at him, wide red eyes glowing in the moonlight. She hustled over to him and kept her head towards the ground, murmuring pitifully. "Yeah, yeah, whatever! What the hell are you doing, trying to fry me?"

Then he noticed the rings on her fur glowing fiercely.

"What's wrong, girl?" He furrowed his brow and reached for her when he heard the giggle behind him, just where Umbreon's shadow ball had struck. He shifted over and gasped slightly.

Floating just above him was the familiar ghostly face of the mismagius. Could he be certain that it was the same ghost-type to have followed them throughout Mt. Silver, no…but he was not exactly in popular mismagius range, and he had not forgotten the sight of Admin Mars dropping into the snow, the cackling specter hovering above her.

"You," he whispered. Umbreon was hissing. "You're following me."

It was not a question. He narrowed his eyes, gripping a handful of grass in one fist that he had unknowingly pulled up.

"Leave me alone, got it?" He snapped. "I don't know what your deal is, but you're done stalking me!"

He tossed the grass. The mismagius sniggered and vanished right in front of him. Umbreon leaped gracefully over his legs and took off in pursuit of the unseen pokemon.

"Umbreon!" He demanded, and she stopped in her tracks. "_Inside_."

He pointed for emphasis, and she quickly dropped her gaze and hurried into the house. Brushing off Ash's hat, he stared into the night worriedly.

_Why are you following me?_


	14. Oops?

Okay guys...okay. I'm done stringing you along. This story is Palletshipping okay?! Everyone rejoice! Or um, be unhappy...(but seriously, rejoice, because Palletshipping is my one true love).

Just, uh...prepare yourselves. You're either going to love or hate this chapter, I predict. Hopefully you love it. I know a couple of you should be happy with me...or something. Eeep!

Also, here's just another reason (aside from what is coming up in the chapter) for me to fish for reviews...the upcoming part of the story can be split multiple ways, and I'd like your opinions on it. There's a rather short (probably about half the usual length) chapter for the next one, and then an only SLIGHTLY shorter than usual chapter ready for after that. I can either post these separately like this, combine them into one chapter, or keep them separate but not make you all wait an entire week between those updates (a special treat!). Here's the catch - they're in different POVs. So, if anyone would like to shout out what they think might flow best, considering the POV switch, that would be appreciated. If not, I'm going to go with my own solution, which will most likely be the special treat one.

This story is no longer rated "M" just for language...so okay yeah enough about this keep reading!

**Disclaimer: I don't own Pokemon...as you can see, I'm incapable of writing children-appropriate plots...**

* * *

"If you guys want to go into town for anything, let me know. It's probably best that you don't look so much like yourselves before you do."

Gary rolled his eyes, and Misty caught him with her foot under the table. He grinned snidely at her through a mouthful of cereal, and she sighed with amusement. Ritchie seemed to have missed his attitude, and went on with his speech at the head of the table while his guests ate around him.

"Everyone's used to the laws against travel in Kanto, now," he went on, "and though it's unlikely you guys would be picked out right away, if anyone recognized you as Kanto figures it might…"

"Freak them out a little," Ash finished for him. Once again his counterpart's hat adorned its usual spot, smothering bedhead which escaped out the sides. Gary caught himself staring at sleepy dark eyes before the other man's attention shifted, and he averted his eyes back towards the brunette.

"But, I'm a little curious, if you don't mind me asking…" Ritchie's brown eyes were shifting between he, Misty and Brock. Gary felt apprehension growing just at his tone of voice. "How exactly did you get here?"

"We came through Mt. Silver," Brock replied simply.

"No," Ritchie shook his head. "That's not what I mean…more like, how did you get_ there_?"

It clicked with Gary what the other man was asking. He wanted to know how they had reached this point. Not how they had physically trekked up and down both sides of Mt. Silver – he wanted to know why, mentally, emotionally, they had invested in something like this. He wanted to know why they were here and how they had gotten so desperate that they would do practically anything to escape.

Frankly, Gary didn't want to talk about it.

"You mean…" Misty trailed off for a moment, looking wary. "You want to know what we're doing here? Why?"

"If you don't mind me asking," he repeated, though to Gary it didn't seem like he cared if they minded much at all.

"Galactic took our cities," Brock began very humbly. "Pewter City has been essentially out of my hands for years now."

"How?" He pressed on. "Ash told me about his...experience, but…"

"It's not exactly a fun story," Misty spoke up suddenly, her voice as hard as her eyes. Something in her tone inspired Gary to speak up next, and he sounded no more forgiving.

"If you're so interested," he began, and at the sound of his voice Ash was instantly alert, "why haven't you done anything before now? It's been years since Galactic started their shit. Where have you been all that time? Why didn't Johto do anything when Kanto suddenly wanted to shut down travel routes?"

"It wasn't everyone just sitting down and taking it," Ritchie began calmly. He didn't seem too worked up about the way Gary had cornered him – but the same couldn't be said for Ash Ketchum.

"Why don't you jump down his throat a little more, Gary?" The dark-haired man interrupted.

Gary glared at him. Something nagged at him fleetingly – had he acknowledged it, he might have recognized it as jealousy.

"No, no," Ritchie diffused the situation immediately. "Ash, its fine, I want to answer. I had no idea what to do when we started hearing about what was happening in Kanto. You have to understand – it didn't get to us like it did you. We didn't know about everything that was happening, hell, more than half of Johto's population still doesn't know. The League didn't seem concerned, and so nobody was asking questions until they were told that they couldn't travel to and fro Kanto like they always had. There were protests and demonstrations, but nothing the League ever took seriously. They acted like Kanto was just upping their immigration laws, like Unova."

"Citizens who had family there were told they could visit if they filled out the proper paperwork and could prove blood relation to someone in Kanto. They made it sound easy, but somehow not many people could get approved to get over the border in time, and even more strangely – an even smaller number of those people ever came back."

Ritchie paused. There was a tense silence over the room. He didn't look upset, or even really troubled. But the next few sentences to leave his mouth held an air of confusion more so than any other emotion.

"My girlfriend – ex-girlfriend, now – managed to get through to visit her mother. I could have gone, since I was born in Kanto. But I didn't." He glanced down at the table. "She wasn't on any of the trains that came back. Or the boats. Or the planes. I checked. When I decided not to go…maybe I was wrong."

"I wonder," Misty began softly, catching their attention, "why Johto would act so nonchalant about Kanto tightening security. The League had to have known it wasn't just a safety precaution like Unova has. They had to have known we were dropping off the League grid like Sinnoh did all those years ago. Why wouldn't they –"

The door flew open with a clatter against the wall, causing all of them to jump. In the front door stormed a brunette woman, maybe a little taller than Misty, clad in a pair of spandex shorts and a red runner's jacket. He couldn't help but notice the belt of pokeballs strapped to her waist.

"Oh my God," she squealed, throwing her hands out. "Ash Ketchum!"

Gary glanced at the addressed man. He looked like he was ready to sink through the floor.

"We have a_ lot_ of catching up to do," the girl had an accent that made it clear she was not from Kanto nor Johto. She smiled and bit her lip. "But not now! Am I interrupting? What's for breakfast?"

She plopped down into the only empty seat left, the one directly to Gary's left. He would have groaned in protest, but after eyeing her for a second time he decided maybe it would be worth playing nice with her.

"So?" She eyed the opposing side of the table, where Ash and Brock sat. To his right at the end of the table, Misty was staring at this new woman. "Whose who? I'm May, by the way. May Maple."

_May Maple? That's sickeningly cute. Did her parents plan on her being four years old for the rest of her life?_

He put on a grin and decided to break the ice first.

"Gary Oak," he extended a hand the slight distance between them.

She looked at him. Her hair fell down around her shoulders in only ever so slight waves and a bandanna obscured her neck. Her eyes were blue, but a darker blue than his, and they were studying him.

"Have I maybe…" she chewed her bottom lip, "…seen you before?"

"Probably not," he continued nonchalantly. "I made a trip to Johto every now and then, back when I was Indigo League Champion."

The reaction was just what he had hoped for. Her lips parted slightly and she blinked with disbelief.

"No way!" She squealed. "No. Way. You're a former Champion?"

Ash and Misty both groaned in disgust at the same time, but neither party engaged in conversation seemed to notice.

"It was awhile back. I run a gym back in Kanto now –"

"Oh my God! A gym? That's incredible! You know, you –"

The rest of the table tried to cut in with business, but to no avail. Any attempt made to rekindle the former conversation was waived off by Gary or blatantly ignored by his current fan, who covered up any interruptions with squealing laughs. It wasn't until May mentioned breeding her venusaur that Brock managed to cut in and steal the show, eager to discuss the topic with her. The newcomer was moving at a mile a minute, and Ritchie just barely managed to get involved in the conversation while Ash had pushed his hat down over his face, looking more and more like he wanted to go back to bed and start the day over tomorrow. Misty was silent, but her eyes were still trained on the other woman.

"Hey."

Gary whispered and caught the redhead's attention. With a thumb he pointed briefly in May's direction and made a quick 'crazy' gesture at his head with the other hand. She giggled.

It had taken Gary roughly five seconds to size up the situation at hand. Here there was a woman most likely a little younger than he – he didn't imagine she could be out of her twenties yet – who appeared totally enraptured with his achievements. Not only had it been years since anyone had spared him a fraction of the adoration his titles used to get him, but it had been a long time – at least in his mind, long enough – since anyone had so obviously wanted him.

This was the sort of attention he had thrived on in his teens and twenties. He nabbed a napkin from the table and pulled a pen from his pocket. Smirking stupidly all the while, he scrawled something onto it and slid it to Misty. She gasped audibly and wrenched the pen from his grasp under the table, scribbling back.

_What do you think of her? Should I?_

_PERVERT!_

He grinned at her at a level gaze. "Who's a starving man to walk past an open restaurant, Misty?"

"Stop it!"

"They're serving steak dinner."

"Oh my God."

"…It's_ 'all you can eat'_."

"I'm so done with you."

* * *

Gary leaned against the side of the house, Umbreon looking perkily into the night sky. The shiny noctowl lifted off into the dark sky and disappeared gradually, the small package of letters attached to its ankle vanishing as well. May was inside, 'catching up' with Ash, which to Gary had looked more like begrudging the dark-haired trainer into small talk when he had passed by. He had stepped out to allow Umbreon time to enjoy the night sky, where he had passed by Misty and Brock attaching letters to the bird's ankle for transport to Kanto. Gary thought the whole idea was a little frivolous, but perhaps it was only because he couldn't sympathize with the need to let those back home know that he was alright. He had thought for a moment about writing to his grandfather, but he didn't trust the mail system they were relying on. If anyone noticed the small package attached to the noctowl's ankle and brought her down, he didn't want his grandfather associated with that kind of trouble.

"You're not going to send anything to your sister?"

Misty appeared standing before him, wearing nothing but a thin tee shirt and loose fitting sweats. She didn't seem to mind the grass tickling at her toes.

"No," he shrugged. "We're not that close anymore."

She frowned, but didn't pester him. The most she and Brock had managed to get out of him about his family was that he had a sister, and that they hardly spoke anymore. He could tell they both yearned to ask more, but was grateful that neither seemed to take it personally that he wasn't interested.

"I understand," she sighed, kneeling down and folding her legs. "My sisters and I don't talk much either."

"I haven't heard you mention your sisters before," he commented. "And if you don't write to them, who did you write to?"

She ignored him. "It's not a big deal. We were never close – the three of them and me, that is. They get along fine."

"Hm," he raised an eyebrow, toying with the grass blades beside him with his fingers. "So how'd you get left out?"

"Runt of the litter," she smiled, and he chuckled a little. "It's not them – it's me. I suppose I could work on it, but…"

"It doesn't seem to bother you much," he finished, noting the grin on her face.

"I guess you're right," she agreed. "It doesn't."

"Where do you fall in the pack?" He inquired, genuinely interested. Aside from him, Misty was the most reserved of the group about her history. Brock by that point had spilled all there was to know about his fiancé and siblings, though he indulged little about his parents. Gary already knew Ash's past – he had been there for it. Misty was a mystery. "Youngest? Oldest?"

"The baby," she smirked.

"Did they train water-types too?"

"Why are you so interested?" She narrowed her eyes, but she was smiling. "I thought the great Gary Oak was only interested in himself."

"Yeah, well," he sighed dramatically. "You've got to entertain the peasants every once in a while, don't you?"

She smacked his arm. "You jerk."

He glanced over a shadow cast across the grass a few yards away and traced it up to Brock, who was staring into the sky soundlessly. Misty followed his stare over her shoulder and looked back at him with a frown.

"Do you think he's okay?"

Gary nodded, but he wasn't entirely sure.

"His letter was huge," she smiled faintly, but it was halfhearted. "I think he had one for every brother and sister."

"Don't forget his fiancé," Gary added, and she nodded. "You still didn't tell me who you wrote to."

She got to her feet and pulled something small from her pocket. She held it in front of him for a moment, and he recognized that it was a photo. He noticed Misty on the left side, and a brown-haired man he didn't recognize on the right, his arm slung around her shoulder.

"Cute, huh?" She teased. "His name's Aaron."

She quickly returned the photo to its place and headed inside. He thought about calling after her and asking more questions, but he let it go. Instead hee glanced at Umbreon, who was making a contented sound.

"You're the only one I'd write to," he whispered with a halfhearted smile and rubbed the top of her head.

* * *

"You're not close to any of the gym leaders here, Ritchie, and don't even pretend!"

"Gym leaders aren't the only people with influence –"

Gary was staring absentmindedly at the ceiling, reclined back on the couch he had occupied the night before. The entire group had summoned to the living room to talk business, yet somehow the conversation had degenerated into Ritchie and May fighting. Or better put, May fighting and Ritchie trying desperately to escape the line of fire.

"You know I can do better than that in Hoenn –"

"Everyone just got to Johto, May, we're not relocating to Hoenn without exploring our options –"

Brock was next to her, legs crossed and watching the debate. Ash was next to him, leaning against the arm of the couch, absentmindedly running his fingers through Pikachu's fur. Misty was the only absent party.

"Ritchie, you know my father runs Petalburg Gym –"

"Wait, what?" Gary interrupted, sitting up straight. "What did you say?"

May looked pleased to have caught his attention and twirled a piece of hair at her shoulder.

"My dad is in charge of Petalburg Gym," she repeated, "in Hoenn. It's my hometown."

Gary looked around at the group waiting for someone to reach the conclusion he had. When everyone stared blankly at him back, he tossed his hands out.

"You understand what that means, don't you?" He carried his stare from Ash down to Misty and back again. "We have leverage in Hoenn. She _is_ leverage!"

He pointed at May, who didn't seem at all insulted at having been referred to as a tool.

"Are you saying we should leave Johto?" It was Ash who spoke up, looking at him with lowered brows and suspicion. "We only just got here."

"But we don't have any reason to be here," he pointed out.

"That's not true," Ritchie insisted, "I might not be related to any of the gym leaders here, but if that's where you all want to focus there's Whitney of Goldenrod, and she led half the protests I remember when Kanto first started locking up."

"So what, she stands around with picket signs and uses a megaphone," he dismissed the brunette, who looked offended. "What we need is somebody who is guaranteed to help – and if this guy is your father, May –"

"Oh, I can get him to help us," she cut him off eagerly. "There's no question about that."

"Good," he continued, holding his palm up and looking around as if to challenge the rest of the room. "So where's the problem with that?"

_"Ritchie!"_

All of their attentions were caught when Misty suddenly appeared at the top of the stairs, face ghostly white and hand plastered over her lips. All three sitting men stood.

"Y-you want to come see this," she pointed down the stairs shakily. "Really. Everyone. Hurry."

They rushed down the stairs as a mob. Even May had fallen eerily silent, and when they reached the basement the only sound was the dull drone of the small television adjacent to the spare beds. Misty stood across from the television, pointing a slender finger at the screen.

_- CRIMINALS MAY BE IN YOUR AREA! WANTED UNDER MULTIPLE CHARGES, INCLUDING EVADING THE POLICE, ASSAULT, AND ILLEGAL IMMIGRATION, CERULEAN CITY GYM LEADER MISTY WATERFLOWER –_

The message seemed to be looping, and they were entering somewhere in the middle. The words spoken by the news anchorman were ignored by them in favor of the scrolling thick font at the bottom of the screen.

_- PEWTER CITY GYM LEADER BROCK HARRISON, AND EX-INDIGO LEAGUE CHAMPION AND VIRIDIAN CITY GYM LEADER GARY OAK. THEY ARE CONSIDERED ARMED AND DANGEROUS. PLEASE CONTACT YOUR LOCAL AUTHORITIES IF SIGHTED. REWARD STANDING AT 10,000 DOLLARS INDIVIDUALLY –_

Gary had stopped listening. He watched as his name disappeared out the left side of the screen and felt goosebumps begin to rise on his skin.

"Oh, no…" Ritchie whispered.

"This is not good," Ash commented to himself, shaking his head slightly.

He blinked several times, as if he could clear his mind of the images. There was a heavy silence, thicker even than the knot in his gut, and May broke it with a shrill yipe when there was a heavy knock at the door from upstairs.

"Ritchie," the brunette's eyes were wide, "is anyone supposed to be stopping by?"

"No," the other answered tersely. "Everyone stay down here, okay? I'll go."

"I'm coming too," May objected. "I'm not…well, I can come."

_Not wanted for ten thousand dollars._

Misty looked clammy as she continued to stare at the television which was now back to its regular programming. Brock had his hand over his mouth, deep in thought. Gary glanced at Ash, who caught his eye. He looked more troubled than Gary had seen him yet, and they both opened their mouths at the same moment to speak to one another when Ritchie's voice sounded from the top of the stairs and stopped them.

"Brock?" The other man called. "Do you, uh... do you have any brothers?"

Brock looked up instantly. Without a word or a sound, he strode across the small basement and was climbing the stairs. He pushed his way past Ritchie in a way that was rather rude for the polite gym leader. Gary exchanged glances with both Misty and Ash before the three of them soundlessly raced up after him, Ash pulling Ritchie along when he reached the top of the stairs.

Upstairs, the showdown had already begun.

"What the _hell_ are you doing here? Are you out of your mind?"

It was the most angry he had ever heard Pewter's leader sound, and it unnerved even Gary to hear him procure such a tone.

"Brock –"

"You have no idea how_ stupid_ this is – you don't get it, do you? Who's watching the gym? Who's watching the_ kids?"_

There was another man in the living room now. He stood maybe an inch or so taller than Brock, and was younger by what Gary assumed was many years, but the resemblance was uncanny. They had the same complexion and course hair, though the other's was darker by a few shades.

"They're hardly kids anymore, Brock," he managed to get out before the older man stormed out of the house, only to return a moment later.

"Where's the noctowl?" He snapped, and Gary realized it was one of the few times – perhaps the only time – that he had heard Brock refer to a specific pokemon as something without individuality. "Where, Forrest?"

Forrest Harrison didn't look like he was bothering to pick his words carefully, and blurted out the answer.

"Not here anymore," he shrugged.

"Why?" Brock continued. "Why would you need to do that? You're not bringing your brothers and sisters here, Forrest, if that's where you're going with this. It is not safe right now, and –"

"It's Brenda," Forrest interrupted, and it stopped his older brother cold. "She should be here later on –"

"You didn't," Brock had rushed forward and cut his younger sibling off by grabbing him roughly by the shoulders. At this, the younger counterpart finally looked unnerved. "You did not do this to me, Forrest."

"I – I mean –"

Brock pushed him away and retreated to the arm of one of the couches, where he sat and buried his head in his hands, shaking it back and forth. Gary watched warily and nobody seemed to want to approach their companion.

"If you guys are going to Hoenn," he spoke up again rather quietly in comparison, "count me out."

"But –" Gary made the mistake of opening his mouth.

"No!" Brock had leapt to his feet and spun around on him, and his jaw slammed shut. After his initial outcry, Pewter's leader seemed to regain a slight bit of composure and drop his volume to a normal level. "No, Gary. No. I'm not going anywhere, not with – not with all of this."

"But May has connections," he insisted, regaining his bearings and reminding himself that just because Brock never blew up didn't mean that he needed to back down when he did. "Think of why we're actually here."

"_That's_ why I'm here!" Brock pointed harshly at his younger brother, who was thankfully silent. "Him and his brothers and sisters!"

"Everybody relax a little bit," Ash spoke up suddenly, holding up his palms to express peace. "This has been a lot to take in. I get it. But we can't fight right now, we have more important things to deal with and we need each other for that."

"He's right," Ritchie nodded, and Gary took a heavy breath.

"We don't all have to stay in Johto," Ash held up his hand as Brock moved to speak again, "_or_ leave for Hoenn. There's a lot of us – eight, with Forrest and –"

"They're not helping," Brock interjected, "don't count them."

"Count me," Forrest challenged, glaring at his older brother. "That's the whole reason I'm here."

"We can work that out later," Ash diffused the situation. "Whatever the numbers, we have enough people to, you know…split. Some of us stay, and some see where we can get in Hoenn."

Gary's first thought was wondering why he had not thought of that himself. Decreasing their numbers would be good for anonymity and efficiency, and splitting up covered far more ground at a time than sticking together. But as he glanced around the room at the various faces, Misty and Brock stuck out to him. He imagined himself curled at the dusty bottom of a tent next to Ritchie and May instead. He didn't like it.

As he eyed Ash Ketchum, he admitted in the dark recesses of his mind that he didn't like the thought of splitting with the dark-haired trainer either.

"How would we decide who goes where?" Gary challenged. The idea was a great one - but did he want everyone else to realize that? "Are you appointing yourself leader or something?"

Ash didn't answer at first. He looked almost caught off guard, like he didn't want Gary thinking that he was trying to take charge.

"No," he settled, "but if we're taking suggestions, I think you, Misty and Brock need to get to Hoenn."

"What?" Brock burst. "Ash, I am –"

"- _wanted_ in the nation of Johto," Ash added with some force. Brock actually fell silent. Gary noted Forrest's face, which read both confusion and alarm. "You're in a lot of danger here. Misty and Gary, too. I can't even be sure what kind of danger. But it's just not safe."

As Gary let that sink in, a part of him was protesting. Some small percentage of his psyche was offended that Ash wanted him sent to Hoenn, even if it were for his own well-being.

"You think I can't handle 'not safe'?" Gary scoffed.

"This isn't about you," Ash narrowed his eyes, and he scowled. "It's about everyone. Everything. We need you here, you know, out of jail."

"You want to call the shots?" Gary went on. "You can start when I'm in Hoenn."

"So you'll go, then? Great," he rushed on, not sounding at all pleased but rather brushing Gary's attitude under the carpet. "I'll stay here."

There was a moment of hard eye contact exchanged between them. Gary folded his arms. He realized that everyone in the room was staring at them, and he exhaled dramatically.

"So that's that," he started out of the room, pushing past Forrest for the door. "Glad we worked that out. Misty, Brock – should I book the plane tickets?"

"I'm not going anywhere," Brock insisted dryly.

"I'll be going with you," May added. "It's _my_ father you'll need to speak to."

He slammed the door behind him, not even waiting for Umbreon to catch up to him. He strode into the woods, so caught up with his own thoughts that he didn't realize until a few minutes later that somebody had followed him.

"Hey."

It was Ash's voice, which he recognized before even turning around. He really had no desire to speak with the trainer at that moment, and sighed loudly with his back still to him.

"Is there a reason you followed me out here?" He grumbled. "Can't a guy get a few minutes alone in the damn woods?"

"Why are you so pissed off about this?" Ash came closer, moving to stand in front of him so that Gary would simply have to see him. "I thought you wanted to go to Hoenn. You seemed excited about the idea when May brought her dad up."

"I do want to go to Hoenn," he rolled his eyes, "but splitting up, its –"

He realized he wasn't sure how to continue that sentence. Frustrated, he scowled.

" – it's a great idea, okay? It's a fucking fantastic idea. We'll be decreasing our chances of being found along with increasing our efficiency and broadening how much we can network. Brock's being a moron about the whole thing and if he can ever get over himself he needs to come too. Great call, genius. Your plan is great."

Ash didn't seem thankful.

"So then why are you so pissed off at me?"

"Can we even trust you?" He spat, and the dark-haired man recoiled only the slightest. "How do I know that with us in Hoenn, you won't just back out of the whole idea and crawl back up to your little mountain? You could just be waiting for Brock, Misty and I to board a plane and the second it takes off you're going to run out on us. How can I be sure that you aren't planning on it?"

"Because I'm not."

"And you think your word is worth something around here why?" He returned. Surprisingly, Ash did not seem to be that offended. In fact he looked slightly entertained. "You think this is funny?"

"No," he admitted. "This is just so typical of you."

"Don't do that stupid analyzing shit," he pointed, turning away and striding further into the woods where Ash followed, "acting like you know how I think."

"You haven't exactly changed much," the dark-haired trainer went on, "It's not hard to –"

"Yeah, I know, I remember. Still the same old asshole, or whatever."

"Hey."

He grasped at his arms, which Gary employed physical effort not to shrug away. He sighed heavily and turned around.

"What?" He groaned. "Can't you just go back to the house?"

"Can I ask you a question?"

God, there were very few sentences Gary hated more than that one. It was almost always followed by something he didn't want to be asked at all, and though it was a question he had never had much luck before with answering 'no'.

"Shoot."

"Did you pick up the pokeball?" He asked, and Gary was confused for a moment. He stared at his counterpart, waiting for him to go on. "My half, I mean."

Now it made sense. Ash had thrown his half of their childhood shared pokeball at him after their argument on the way into Johto…and Gary had picked it up, but he wasn't sure he wanted to tell Ash that. He settled on an answer.

"Yeah," he began, "I did. But mine burned down in your little cabin."

Why had he added that? Like some of the magic was lost or something because one half was missing? There had been no magic to begin with. It was a piece of broken technology that had no purpose and it always had been, but for some reason he felt a twinge of bitterness thinking about his half charred to ash.

Ash frowned. "I guess that's alright. I was just wondering because, well…we're splitting up and all."

"What, you want your half?" He offered. "Need something to remind you of me while I'm gone, Ashy-boy?"

Ash smirked dryly. "Shut up, Gary. It was just a question." He sighed and leaned against a nearby tree trunk. "Do you think Brock will agree to go?"

"He has to," Gary insisted. "Only an idiot would stay somewhere with a ten-thousand buck bounty on their head."

"Or somebody who believes he has more important things to worry about than his safety," Ash looked troubled, staring into the grass. "If Brenda shows up we're going to have the same problem convincing him all over again."

"So no point in bothering to try until she's here, then," he decided. "Why don't we just change whose in the groups? Misty, Brock, Forrest and Brenda could go with May to Hoenn, and you and I could stay with Ritchie."

Ash shook his head. "No. You have to go. Besides, the Hoenn team needs a leader."

"And Misty and Brock are suddenly not leadership material?"

"No," Ash said simply, shrugging. "Not like you are."

Gary grinned, "how _cute_ of you, Red."

As with the first time he had reminded Ash Ketchum of his nickname, the other man blushed madly. This struck Gary as hilarious, and he laughed so hard at the other's expense that his eyes were shut tightly. It wasn't until he, gripping his sides, trailed off his laughter and opened them that he realized Ash had come closer.

"Come on," Ash was glaring at him, but it was with mock offense. "Let's just get back."

"Awe, you're not embarrassed, are you?" He chuckled more, trying to contain his outburst, and nabbed Ash by the elbow when he tried to walk away from him. He couldn't quite work out in his mind how they had gone from stomping off into the woods in a temper to laughing and joking, but Gary wasn't going to question it. Ash had the most ridiculous expression on his face, eyebrows raised with the slightest of smirks as if he were thinking the same thing about Gary, who was noticing the faint freckles under Ash's eyes that he had hardly noticed before.

"Alright," he regained his composure, taking a step forward. "Let's go."

But as he passed Ash something strange happened. Instead of letting Gary pass he took the smallest pace forward and grabbed onto his left elbow to angle him closer. It hardly registered with Gary what was about to happen and he turned his head right into the kiss.

It was the slightest of pecks. It almost could have been written off as an accident, if it weren't for the purposeful tilt of Ash's head and the way he was leaning forward. He lingered for a moment longer than necessary, but he kept his eyes shut while Gary's blues flickered open and close with a moment's panic.

Then it passed. No border patrol around to put on a show for, Ash Ketchum had kissed him – and he realized something.

He wanted more.

It wasn't the kind of 'more' that he felt when May batted her eyes at him, the kind that urged for more pouting lips and hoped that if he told her more about his history as a Champion, she might lean forward just a bit further in her loose-fitting top. No. It was the kind that you couldn't quite pinpoint where it had hit you first, because the swelling in your head, chest and jeans had all caught your attention at the same second. So he seized Ash by the sides and pulled him slightly closer.

This not so subtle hint seemed to have scared the other man off, and his darker eyes fluttered open wide. Ash made no further moves to continue the kiss, even pulled away slightly, but Gary was not much into asking permission and did not allow the gesture to deter him. He took the matter into his own hands and leaned forward to catch the other man's lips again and this time the motion lacked any hesitance. Gary was firm in his ministrations, slipping his tongue past the other's lips. Ash was beginning to grow bolder as well, his arms, which had hung limply at his sides, came up to grasp the bare skin of Gary's biceps. He was working his way back into the kiss in a way that Gary took as challenging. So he pressed slightly forward, moving one hand to the small of Ash's back until he had lowered him into the grass. It was there that the dark-haired man began to squirm beneath him in slight protest, only arousing Gary further.

"Let –"

The rest of the sentence died away in a breath when Gary moved his attentions down to Ash's neck, swirling patterns onto the skin. He moved his hands up towards where Ash's had been struggling and gripped the wrists to the grass to ensure their continued cooperation. After migrating down to his collarbone without complaints, he felt comfortable with slackening the grip on one wrist and sliding his free hand down to Ash's waistband. As he tugged it downward, there was a stir of his partner's hips, but not one of protest, and it seemed that both parties had abandoned cohesive thought. Ash gasped quietly when Gary took him into his hand and that was all the encouragement that the ex-Champion needed. He added to the sensation by leaving a trail with his lips across the dark-haired trainer's now bare hips.

As much as he was enjoying himself, after a few passing moments the strain against his jeans was beginning to frustrate him. He freed Ash's other wrist and brought that hand down to fumble with the button and zipper of his pants, pulling them over each hip with his thumb. Ash seemed to distracted to have taken notice, but when Gary ceased his attentions he quietly groaned in complaint.

"But," his voice was but a breathy whisper and did little to clear Gary's head. "Don't -"

Gary didn't say a thing, but silenced him with another forceful kiss, now positioned fully over him and pulled down Ash's boxers with a single tug. They pooled loosely at his feet in the grass and a few slight kicks left Gary with enough room to maneuver himself exactly how he wanted. Ash's hands had gone from gripping the grass to sliding across Gary's back, who using one hand to guide himself pressed forward.

Ash took in a sharp breath, head tipping back and parting their kiss. Gary thought nothing of it, even when the other's hands fell from his back to grip the grass, continuing to press inside slowly, feeling the ring of muscle giving way around the head of his cock. His partner's own erection rubbed briefly against his abdomen as he arched as if to escape the intrusion.

"Fuck," the other trainer hissed, panting slightly now. Ash's expression looked uncomfortable, but Gary was slipping further inside and he looked so damn sexy with his face all flushed like that –

"Ahh -!" God, he could hardly take the sounds anymore and he positioned himself more properly to sink all the way in when Ash threw out his hands and shoved his chest. "Stop, stop."

This alarmed Gary. His first thought was that he didn't want to stop at all, and of all the attractive protests he could perhaps come up with to convince Ash otherwise. The next was concern that the other man wasn't enjoying it, and his ego trembled a bit at the thought. The final was the worry that he had hurt him and the rush of guilt at the order those thoughts had arrived in as he carefully pulled out.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" He asked. When he received no answer, and the other man propped himself up on his elbows still beneath him, he prodded for a reply again. "Ash?"

Speaking his name seemed to break the spell. With a creeping sensation up his spine, he realized where he was, what he was doing and who he was with. He noticed the uprooted blades of grass scattered across them and noticed the heat of the sun was filtering through the trees and beating onto his back. Daylight. Broad daylight.

He quickly made to adjust his pants and conceal himself.

"What?" Ash blinked several times, looking like it had only just struck him as well. "I'm fine –"

The sentence caught in his throat. He sized Gary up and down and fell dead silent.

Gary hurried to his feet and didn't look back once as he made a beeline for the house.

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I'll be over here, pretending none of you read that (and that those who did loved it...right? Come on, Palletshippers, back me up).


	15. Pallet Town

This chapter is quite short - a little interlude, if you will. It's a tad earlier because of that, and I think I'll spring the next update a few days earlier for it as well. But we'll see!

**Disclaimer: I don't own Pokemon.**

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"Professor!"

Samuel Oak shifted in his desk chair, the wrinkles in his aged face deepening with concern.

"Professor," Tracey Sketchit burst in the door to his office, the wood smacking against a row of books. The younger man held his hands out to steady the swaying shelf before slamming the door behind him. "You've got to get out of here. They've just arrived outside."

Oak frowned. With a sigh he looked back towards his book, a thick novel that he was nearly finished with. He had hoped to before they came for him.

"I'm sorry, Tracey," he began, taking a good look at his study. Rows of old books, some of which were published copies of his own research that he had been lucky enough to get a hand on. There was a twinge in his chest at the thought of his old lab and the hours spent in it. He placed a hand on the mahogany desk, one that his grandson had purchased him after his lab had burned down. "But I'm a little old to be running."

"But they're going to –"

"Don't worry about me. Go to Delia's and make sure Mr. Mime knows to keep hidden. The cellar, as usual. "

_He's all the poor girl has anymore._

"Professor –"

"Please, Tracey," he interrupted sternly. "Let them come. Don't try to stop them. You do beautiful work, Tracey, and I'd hate to see anything happen to your art while they're here."

Tracey looked as if he had a lump in his throat, caught between insisting and obeying. When a woman charged into his study, pushing past Tracey with a pistol at her hip and half a dozen grunts at her back, Oak did not rise from his chair.

"Oak," she glowered, violet hair pulled back in a tight bun. "We've got an assignment for you."

"Tracey," he began, "out with you."

Hesitantly he heard footsteps against the wood floor behind him. They were slow and methodical, but they eventually vanished out the door.

"An assignment," he mused, back still turned and returning to his book. "I can only wonder what it might be. Though I should tell you, Jupiter, I've been out of school for quite some time now."

"Do you think I'm here to play games, old man?" She pursed her manicured lips. "I'm here to talk business. How would you like to become part of our team?"

"You've asked me this before, Jupiter, and I have refused each time."

"Yes, well," she smirked, "I think you'll find this time that the circumstances are a bit different."

"Ah," he halfheartedly grinned. "So what have you to persuade me with?"

"Your grandson."

The grin slipped away.

"We know he made off into Mt. Silver, Oak. We've got traces of his locations in Johto. The Johto League won't take kindly to illegal immigration, especially that of known criminals."

"Ah," he kept his voice calm, but his expression read troubled, unseen by the Galactics. "What is it my boy has gotten into this time?"

"We know he is in possession of pokemon. He also faces charges of theft, destruction of federal property, homicide –"

"Homicide," the professor tutted. "You must have the wrong man, Jupiter. Gary is not a patient man, but he, how should I say…doesn't have it in him, as some do."

Jupiter narrowed her eyes, unbeknownst to the professor.

"Explain two dead men at the border then, Oak," she snapped. "Bites to the throat. They bled out or asphyxiated. What a civil way to go. The bite marks fit the palate of an umbreon, and don't think we haven't seen that mutt your grandson carries around with him."

"That is rather unfortunate," he commented, rather uninterested. "Though I do believe falls under the category of involuntary manslaughter. I express my condolences for your men."

"We know he isn't alone either. Misty Waterflower of Cerulean City? Brock Harrison of Pewter?"

Oak said nothing.

"Well?" She prompted.

"It seems Gary has gotten himself into quite a bind," he began, "but you have yet to tell me how this should inspire me to work for Team Galactic."

"Because your grandson and his teammates have a ten grand bounty on their heads," she smiled. "Each. Both here and in Johto, and I can increase that figure with a snap of my fingers. So unless you'd like the wanted ads printed with the specification 'payment awarded for body bags only'…you _will_ come with us."

He was silent.

"What'll it be, old man?"

He spun around in his chair rather slowly.

"Well," he braced himself with either hand on the arms of his chair and raised himself to his feet, "I'm sure working with you will be a pleasure, Jupiter."

The professor followed the violet-haired woman out of his study and through his home to the front door, grunts forming a circle around him. He found it silly that they all carried their hands so close to the gun on their hips – as if a man of his age were going to run.

_Those days are past me_, he thought somberly. _Though not quite past my grandson, it seems._

Even when he stepped off his porch and noticed the people standing in their doorways, watching nervously, he did not show any expression on his face. He hardly felt any for that matter. He truly did not see the need to fear these people. They had taken his lab and life's work, but this meant that they had nothing left to sway him with now except the safety of his grandson. Working for them seemed a very small price to pay for it.

He noticed Tracey standing in the dirt road near his house, looking upset. He had a hand drawn over his mouth and he lowered his eyes when the professor looked at him. Then from down the path came a shriek.

"Please!"

An auburn-haired woman was rushing down the road, jeans and pale apron collecting kicked up dirt in her haste. She came to a stop in front of Jupiter, who did not so much as blink and pushed right past her.

"Please," Delia Ketchum repeated. "Don't take him, he's just –"

She reached out and grabbed between two grunts to hold onto his sleeve. One of the grunts commanded her to unhand him just as Oak himself spoke up.

"Let go, Delia."

"But –" she did.

"I'll be fine," he reassured her, though her eyes were now teary. "Go home."

"The more you pester us," one grunt chuckled and flipped his now raised pistol in his fingers, landing the barrel in the woman's direction, "the more trouble you cause for him."

Delia paled so drastically he wondered if she might faint.

"Put your gun down, boy," Professor Oak stopped walking, causing the grunt to bump into him with a scowl.

"You think you give _me_ orders -?"

"Listen to the old man," Jupiter snapped, yanking Oak by the shoulder to get him walking again. "He might not give you orders, but I do. We don't point guns at innocent civilians, that's not why we're here. Get moving."

The professor could hear Delia Ketchum break down into a fit of sobs behind him, but he did not allow himself to look. It would only make what he knew needed to be done more difficult. That woman, he knew, would help any poor soul - take in any needy man, woman, child or pokemon - and yet she had suffered more hardship in her life than she deserved to endure. Growing up in Pallet Town a girl with no father and hardly a dollar's pocket change lead to several failed and oftentimes abusive relationships until the most devastating of them all, a frequently long-distance partner and aspiring entrapaneur who left her with a child he had no intention to help raise. Instead of the financially stable marriage she had been both promised and hoping for, she was left to raise a child alone in much the same conditions she had grown up in.

Though her son's absence was a constant source of pain in Delia's life, Oak suspected that this perhaps bothered her even more. It was truly her worst nightmare – she had failed to provide her only child with anything more than her mother had been able to provide for her, ultimately a case of history repeating itself.

He knew these things due to long chats over dinner while the boys had played together, where she would often repeat the same phrase to him with no less sincerity each time.

_"I'm so grateful that Ash has a friend like Gary."_

The professor sighed as he took a step into the heavily armored Galactic truck. If only one could stay so young.

"Feeling nostalgic, old man?"

Jupiter punctured his thoughts as the door slammed and the engine revved. He settled into the black leather seat.

"It is hard not to at my age," he offered a slight smile even to this woman who was certainly not his friend.

"Celebi waits for no one," Jupiter chuckled, "so my grandmother used to say."

"Your grandmother might have been a bit mistaken, I'm afraid," he added, and Jupiter's eyes flickered towards him.

"Celebi is the Time God," Jupiter went on, sounding sterner.

"That would be Dialga, if I were to wager," he commented. "Celebi struck me as more of a goddess, if you want to put it in those terms."

"Ah," she settled back into her chair, but still looked annoyed. She kicked her feet up onto the dash as they hit a slight bump in the road. "Celebi's the time traveler, then?"

"That sounds more like it." He smiled, thinking back to his books. "I've always interpreted it something like this. Dialga controls the flow of time, while Celebi ensures we all…for lack of a better word, suffer through it. The irritating younger sister Dialga never wanted."

"What, and Celebi is an old friend of yours?" Jupiter laughed outwardly, perhaps slightly mockingly. He wasn't bothered.

"We don't keep in touch."

"So it sounds like you believe in legends, then," she played with the barrel of her pistol.

"I enjoy a bit of light reading."

"I'm a bit surprised," she admitted. "A man of science such as yourself believing in lore like pokemon gods."

"All lore can be explained with science," he went on, "if only one keeps an open mind."

"That's good to hear, old man," she chuckled, eyeing him in a smug way that made Oak feel suspicious. "Because that's exactly what you're going to do for us."

He frowned at her, and she began to laugh quietly. For the first time since Admin Jupiter had marched into his home, Samuel Oak felt afraid.


	16. Split

So here's a quick question...is there any way to sort of, queue if you will, chapters to post on a certain day? Not because I'm so lazy that I want to have the site posting chapters for me, but because in the upcoming future I will be in a different country without internet access for a few weeks...and that's a few weeks that I don't know how I'm going to update. Or if I'm going to be able to. We still have some time to work this out, but if there is no way to queue chapters or anything like that, does anyone have any preferences? Post all the updates that would happen before I leave and you all read them as you will? Post more than usual for a few days when I get back to catch up? Pretend that little gap never happened? I am open to ideas.

Onward to more important matters, like the story itself.

**Disclaimer: I do not own Pokemon.**

* * *

When Gary rolled over uncomfortably and spotted the messy black bedhead at the foot of the adjacent couch, he felt sick to his stomach. Rising as quietly as he could, he hurried to the kitchen and picked up the cordless phone before he rushed to the bathroom and closed the door behind him.

_Oh, fuck._

He had failed to see Ash the entire rest of yesterday, as the black-haired trainer had stayed out in the woods presumably training his team. Gary had made sure to tuck in early lest he see the other man returning, and had successfully avoided him. However he knew his luck would soon run out and that he could not avoid Ash Ketchum forever.

He examined the phone in his hand. His first instinct was to call his grandfather, but upon further review of the idea he realized that there was no way he could explain this situation to him. He closed his eyes and smacked his head gently against the door a few times before sliding down to the tile where he sat.

_Aren't people supposed to have support systems for times like this?_

He wracked his brain. He could hardly think of a time when he had relied on anyone but himself in the past fifteen or so years, but as he narrowed down his search all the way into his childhood, he realized the person he had nearly screwed was his most frequent childhood go-to. He cursed. That and his grandfather, and –

That was it.

He took a moment to consider if Ritchie had long-distance coverage before deciding that he didn't give a rattata's ass how much the brunette was charged. The phone seemed to ring forever, and he spent the wait going over all the ways he could have dialed the number wrong in his mind. He was surprised he hadn't broken into a nervous sweat yet.

"Hello?"

"May?" He began weakly. "May Oak?"

"Who is this?" She asked. "You know, I don't have a long-distance plan, you're lucky I even picked up this phone. If this is a prank –"

"It's not," he hurried, worried she might hang up on him. "It's Gary."

There was a silence so long that he feared the line might have gone dead.

"My brother Gary?"

"Yeah," he answered, "that one."

"Are – are you…what's going on? Where are you? Are you in Viridian?"

"I really need to talk to you."

"Oh, God," he could hear papers shuffling. "Just give me one second –"

"I can call back if this is a bad time."

"No!" She rushed. "Let me just grab my things. I'll tell my boss there's a family emergency –"

"You're at work?" Had he forgotten that normal people with average daily agendas existed? "It's not really an emergency –"

"Gary," she interrupted flatly in a tone that left no room for arguments. "I've been your sister for thirty years –"

"I'm thirty-one," he whispered, but she didn't catch it.

_"You're only four, Gary –"_

_"I'm four and a half!"_

" – and you have never called me, not once, because you needed to talk. It's an emergency."

He waited silently on the line until she returned, studying the peach tile of the bathroom.

"There," she began. "I'm walking home now. You're lucky I still use this cell phone number. Now what's going on?"

"It's…" he took a breath and leaned his head back against the door, "…hard to explain."

"You're stressing me out," she answered. "Are you in one piece? You're not in jail, are you?"

"Yes, no," he replied, "not yet, that is."

"What?" Maybe he should have kept that comment to himself. "Do you need money, Gary? Because I can wire you money –"

"I have money, May."

"Then will you tell me what you need? Because I'm going to call Grandpa in a minute."

"Don't even try it," he exclaimed, "and don't tell him about this, okay?"

"Alright, alright! Just talk already, at least!"

He took a breath.

"Fine," he began. "I might have…hooked up, I guess, with somebody I shouldn't have."

"Oh, gross," she droned, "seriously?"

"Look, do you want me to get to the point or not?"

"Yes, yes, sorry. I was just giving you a hard time. That's still gross, though. Continue."

"Well, that's it," he swallowed hard, and with difficulty forced the next sentence out of his mouth. "I don't know what to do."

"Okay…" May Oak started, "okay. Well, this probably isn't as bad as you think it is right now. How often do you see her?"

He cringed with anxiety. _Her._

"Every day. I'm sort of living with this person."

"That makes things a little more complicated. When's the next time you'll see her?"

"Approximately…as soon as I stop hiding in the bathroom."

_Unless I flee into the wilderness. Also an option._

May giggled on the other end of the line. He swore at her.

"Sorry!" She went on. "Sorry, sorry. It's not funny, I promise. We've all been there."

"Gross, stop talking."

"Do you think she's going to confront you about it?"

He considered that for a moment.

"No," he decided, "I don't think so, at least. I just don't want it to be some giant donphan in the room."

"Gary," she sounded more serious now, like she were picking her words carefully. "No offense or anything, but…I know you. You are my brother, after all. As much as this creeps me out, she's probably not the first girl you've slept with who you shouldn't have."

"I didn't really sleep –"

"The details don't really matter. I'm just wondering…why are you calling me now? Why this time?" She paused, but he didn't know how to answer. "What makes this girl such a special case?"

More silence.

"Do you like her?"

His first instinct was to recoil from that question, deny it with everything he had in him. It wasn't that Gary had ever liked Ash like that. He was sure of it. There had been times when they had gotten along incredibly well, practically inseparable but they had been so young then. Children. They were both highly competitive, though in different ways and for different reasons, and this had gone on to drive a wedge in the closeness they had used to share. Their separate pokemon journeys had been like the nail in the coffin – they were practically destined to live in constant competition. Gary had money and a surname with notoriety, and Ash had the leftover yellow rat Gary's grandfather had allowed him and his mother's spare change. Gary had felt for many years that it was his duty to be ahead of Ash. He hadn't had any time for the games they had used to play when he needed to be at the top. He hadn't truly noticed the rift between them for years, or perhaps he had and had just blissfully ignored it, but perhaps if he had been in Ash's position of being constantly belittled by someone he had used to consider the best of his friends...

It wasn't that he had ever_ liked_ Ash like that. He had just wanted his adoration. His full focus and attention. So he had gone years convinced that there was no way he could ever like Ash like that, not even for a second, but the notion that his rival might not feel that way towards him inspired him to try harder. It made him jealous.

So he didn't like Ash – did he? But he wanted to know without question that was how Ash felt about him.

Really, what difference was there?

"…Gary?"

"No," he insisted instantly. "No, I don't."

"Why don't you just bail out then?" She chuckled. "Delete her number, skip town. No, I'm just being an idiot, don't actually do that."

_But that's what's going to happen anyway, isn't it? _He pictured himself on a plane to Hoenn.

"I don't want to do that to him anyway."

"What?"

He realized his error with a jolt.

"Thanks, May," he spoke quickly, far too quickly for Gary Oak, who was never flustered. "I've gotta go."

"Gary, wait! Do not –"

He hung up. The white noise of the bathroom mocked him. Not even stirrings from the rest of the house punctured the empty air around him.

If anything, he now felt worse than he had before making his phone call. He now had the added stress that his sister probably thought he was floundering in his sexuality, which he wasn't. He was thirty-one, not sixteen. He knew what he liked.

He was just a tiny bit concerned that Ash Ketchum might have somehow slipped into the category.

Reluctantly, he stepped into the shower. Sure, it would prolong having to leave the bathroom and run into Ash, but everyone knew the shower was the worst place to find yourself when you were emotionally compromised. Somehow the combination of nudity and solidarity set off some signal in the brain – yes, Gary was convinced that this was a biological reaction – that demanded it remind you of every mistake you had ever made.

He would be a shitty person to walk outside that room, look Ash in the eye and go on forever like yesterday had never happened, but that was what he wanted to do more than anything. Maybe tease him a little bit – just a bit. Make up some snide jokes about bad kissers and aim them so subtly that only Ash could figure out what he was really getting at.

_How mature. Get some new material._

Not that Ash was bad kisser anyway.

_Stop. Also inappropriate._

He squeezed his eyes shut and poured far more shampoo than necessary into his hair.

_"You got out before it became too much for you to be bothered with."_

God, was he really like that? And if he wasn't, how was he going to prove that if he reacted just the way Ash accused him of always reacting?

Gary had had just about enough of his own self-analysis bullshit. He finished with his shower, dried off and dressed himself before heading to the living room of the house, be there what may. He reassured himself that this couldn't go nearly as badly or dramatically as he was imagining. They were both adults, couldn't they handle this maturely?

Though for all his inner pep talk, he still felt relieved when he realized the only living room occupants were Brock and his fiancé, Brenda Duffey, the newest arrival at Ritchie's. Like he had gathered from Brock's many renditions of her, she had olive-toned skinned and a thick black braid that hung down to her mid-back. At the moment she had her backed turn to him, and judging by her cocked hip and crossed arms he gathered that she and her fiancé were not agreeing at the moment.

He tip-toed past that monster. As if he needed more shit to deal with.

Outside, his luck ran out. Ash and Misty were actually facing each other, and as if that weren't shocking enough they seemed to be exchanging words.

" – you'll have to make to Olivine City in three days, but –"

"No rush, huh?"

" – I want you all out of Johto as soon as possible. I know it's a crunch, but –"

"Ouch," Gary walked up and interrupted, startling Ash slightly. He put on a slight grin and appeared casual. "I didn't know you felt so strongly about kissing us goodbye."

_Poor choice of words._

Ash reddened. "That's not what I –"

"He's joking," Misty rolled her eyes playfully at Gary, oblivious. Ash regained his composure and complexion, but still only glanced at Gary as he handed them both their tickets.

"You're taking a ship out of Olivine in three days," he explained, "you'll have to leave as soon as you can to meet the date. It could take up to two weeks to make it to Hoenn, but –"

"Two weeks?" Gary interrupted. "Why don't we take a plane?"

"Much stricter security," Ash explained, and Gary chastised himself for not thinking of that. "We can't take that kind of risk."

"Looks like Ritchie's back," Misty commented, and Gary's eyes followed hers across the lawn to where Ritchie was struggling to heave a large box up the path. The redhead wandered off to assist him, leaving Gary and Ash in a pair.

"So," Gary began, thumbs in his pockets. He realized that Ash was purposely looking anywhere but at him. "She's talking to you, huh?"

"Business only," he replied.

"Better than nothing," Gary realized the other man held only one ticket in his hand now. "Who's that ticket for?"

"May."

"Then Brock already has his?"

Ash sighed heavily. "Brock isn't going with you."

Gary groaned. "He's a moron."

"That's what he and Brenda are fighting about, actually. She wants him to go."

"Then what's the deal?" He asked more emphatically. "Brenda wants him to go, isn't it her that he's trying to please?"

"He wants to keep Brenda and Forrest here," Ash went on, "but he doesn't want to leave them alone. I tried explaining that we can look after them – not to mention their both capable of looking after themselves – but he won't hear it."

_God, Brock can be dense._

"Well, uh…" Ash trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck. He shifted past Gary and gave him a wide berth as he did so. "I'd better go see what Ritchie brought back. He's got the travel supplies."

If possible, Ash seemed to feel even more awkward about the entire situation than Gary did.

Back in the house, Ritchie had managed to set the large cardboard box onto the dining table. May and Forrest were already sifting through it, making comments about the things they found inside, while Brock was refusing to so much as acknowledge it as he and Brenda sat on opposite sides of a couch. Gary walked over to where Misty was, giving Ash some space.

"What's all this?"

"Basic travel supplies," she shrugged. "Food, a tent – the stuff we lost in the fire."

"That's not all," Forrest said in awe, holding up a small red and white object.

"No," Brock was on him in an instant, "absolutely not. You're not catching anything."

"Why the hell not?" His younger brother held the ball out of Brock's reach. "It's legal here in Johto."

"He's right," Ritchie tread carefully. "He's not in any danger here, Brock. I swear."

Slowly Brock backed down. He stared hard at his counterpart for a second before diving into the box and extracting his own ball.

"There's enough for each of you to take two," Ritchie explained. "I would have bought more, but with the rest of this stuff I was running low on cash."

"Did you buy me any, Ritchie?" May cooed, leaning over the table with a pout.

"No, May," he answered blandly. "You actually have your own pokemon."

"That reminds me of something," Ash piped up, gathering the attention of his teammates. "I, uh…I think the pokeballs that you're carrying…the ones from Team Galactic, I think they're being tracked."

"What?" Misty looked alarmed.

"As in," Brock already had his out of his pocket, "they can find us as long as we have them on us?"

"I can't be sure," Ash went on, "but I have evidence that strongly suggests it. I think it would be best if everyone without a pokemon of their own already – Brock, Forrest, Misty, Brenda – went out today and tried to catch one with the Galactic pokemon."

"And then what do we do with them?" Misty asked. She was already holding out one ball, which Gary could guess was the parasect, looking ready to be rid of it.

"I'm not sure," he admitted. "But we can't keep holding onto them. There's no point in you and Gary even going to Hoenn if Galactic is just going to trace you there."

"Are you sure?" Misty was still offering out parasect, but she looked increasingly skeptical. "Is there any way we can prove that?"

"Are you sure the tracking system is on the ball?" Brock asked. "Not some kind of chip in the pokemon?"

"I can't see how it matters," Gary pitched in. "If we ditch the balls, we ditch the pokemon."

Umbreon vocalized quietly at his side.

"Not you, girl. Don't be ridiculous."

"I was thinking of Nidoking," Brock clarified. Gary tried to contain his grin when he realized the poison-type would be staying in Johto with his favorite human and far away from him.

"Well, we'll find out I guess," Ash answered.

They split up into groups. Brenda immediately approached Brock about coming with her to find a pokemon, and despite their disagreements lately he had agreed. Misty had extended her help to Forrest, and then turned to him.

"Why?" Gary asked. "I already have Umbreon. I can catch more pokemon on our way – it'll give us some variety."

"At least come along," Misty pestered, and Gary glanced back at where May, Ritchie and Ash were delegating supplies into backpacks. He caught the latter's eyes briefly.

"Alright," he agreed, quickly looking the other way. "I guess I will."

Gary thought Misty was a little too happy to head up Route Forty-Three towards the Lake of Rage. She chatted the entire way up the grassy path, not seeming too concerned with what pokemon they might run into unless they were water-types.

"Do you think the rumors about the gyarados here are true?" She sighed almost wistfully. "That they're red?"

"You'd have to ask Ritchie," he replied uninterested.

"Wouldn't that be incredible? To see a red gyarados?"

"Yeah," he rolled his eyes as Umbreon padded along dutifully beside him. "It doesn't make much biological sense for a gyarados to be red – it's probably a genetic defect. I doubt very many are, and they probably don't last very long in that lake."

"That'd really be something, though," Forrest was taking the bait. "A red gyarados…"

"Did you specialize in rock-types, too, Forrest?" The redhead inquired, taking a break apart from her water-type ramblings. "Like Brock?"

The younger man shrugged. "It just sort of fell into my lap. I had more rock-types than any other type, but it wasn't on purpose. We just had so many of them. I don't really favor them, like Brock and Salvador do."

Gary recognized the name of another Harrison, but had no idea where this one fell in the pack.

"Brock talks about you guys all the time," Misty laughed lightheartedly, but when Forrest didn't so much as chuckle she paused.

"Yeah, well," he said somberly, kicking at a nearby stone. "I'm not surprised."

Even Gary was left confused at why the mood had suddenly gone so sour. Forrest picked it up again a moment later with an excited shout.

"Look, there! What is that?"

There was something hanging from a low branch of a nearby tree. Gary had to stare for several moments to pick it out, but once he caught his first glimpse of the circular rows of small needle-like teeth he could not ignore it.

"Good eye," Gary commented honestly. "Looks like a weepinbell."

The grass-type was suspended in the air by a single root-like appendage, which was wrapped around a branch. Gary had never owned a weepinbell, nor any of its evolutionary forms – back in his day, he could remember looking at a bellsprout and scoffing. What, he was supposed to catch that little thing?

"Do you think I could…?"

Forrest trailed off and looked towards Umbreon. Gary realized what the other man was requesting.

"Oh," he snapped his fingers and got Umbreon's attention, pointing at the weepinbell, "of course. Umbreon."

The dark-furred pokemon dashed a few yards over to where the grass-type hung. Forrest hurried after, while he and Misty followed a little more slowly. Umbreon paced around the grass beneath the weepinbell, which hung motionless, and surveyed her target.

"Avoid the teeth," Gary called. "And careful of the toxins!"

The weepinbell had still not moved. As with most grass-types, Gary knew that the weepinbell was unlikely to attack unless provoked, as Umbreon was larger than the creature and thus a poor prey choice. The dark-type scampered back a few yards and then fired a shadow ball, knocking the weepinbell from the tree with a splat. Gary cringed. The creature was covered in a slimy residue.

Immediately a cloud of spores filled the air. Gary stepped back instinctively, though he was already far enough back to avoid the stun spore. Umbreon charged another shadow ball and fired, sending the weepinbell rolling back a few feet before its root grasped the base of the tree. Had he not known the rest of the creature was there, he would have suspected that the root was just a growth on the tree, they looked so similar. Gary could see the muscles inside the gaping mouth contract and a slime ball was fired in Umbreon's direction.

"Watch out!" Forrest called, but she had already dodged. Where the liquid landed, the grass began to dissolve and steam.

"See if you can throw the ball," Misty suggested. "I don't think it'll fight much."

Forrest did. The weepinbell vanished inside, where the machine twitched for several moments. Then it stilled.

"It worked," Forrest breathed, rushing over and grabbing the ball. He stared at it with a splitting grin. "I have a pokemon!"

Umbreon padded back to him and rubbed his leg.

"Thanks," the other man offered, and Gary shrugged it off.

"It was nothing," he reassured. "Do you want to head closer to the lake for yours, Misty?"

He figured that she would have some kind of water-type in mind. But to his surprise, the redhead looked hesitant, twiddling her fingers.

"Um," she began, "actually, I was thinking maybe I should save my pokeballs."

"Why?" He asked. "You have to get rid of the ones you have, you know."

"I know," she nodded. "But like you said – variety. The further we travel and catch pokemon, the more diverse our teams will be."

He considered that for a moment. Something still didn't sit right with him about her behavior, but he nodded.

"Alright," he said, "let's head back then."

"Speaking of the pokemon," she spoke up again, digging one heel into the dirt. "Maybe you should release your gyarados into the Lake of Rage."

Gary pondered that for a moment. He wondered why he hadn't thought of that.

"Yeah," he mulled, "I guess that's not really a bad idea."

"Are you sure that's legal?" Forrest asked. "I mean, Kanto and Johto populations probably mix all the time, but isn't that lake sort of isolated?"

"Well, if it's illegal," Gary began with a sour chuckle, "what's just one more criminal charge?"

Forrest shrugged. "It's just breeder bullshit anyway. Stuff Brock's always talking about. If you guys are going to do it, I won't say anything."

"I want to get back soon," he added, "the others probably need help packing up –"

"I can take him," Misty offered, shrugging. The toe of one tennis shoe was digging into the ground slowly. "To the lake."

Gary eyed her, but he held out the ball. She beamed and hurried off. He rolled his eyes – she was probably acting so strange over her weird water-type obsession. Getting the chance to release a gyarados into the lake or something, and she was probably hoping to spot a red gyarados.

_Like that's realistic._

"Anything I should know about weepinbell?"

As they walked back down the dirt path, Forrest inquired about his newest pokemon. He carried the ball in his hand and brought it to eye level periodically.

"I've never had one myself," Gary answered, "but I wouldn't touch it with bare hands if I were you. They've got this coating that keeps their own poison from affecting them, but it won't work on you."

"What do I feed it?"

"I'd set some traps," he suggested. "Live food is probably best for something wild caught. But they're not exactly fast. If you set it in a tree and let it catch its own food there, you could probably come back a few hours later and find it still in that spot."

"Brenda will be able to help me with that, I'm sure."

"Oh, yeah," he recalled. "Didn't she go to college for that?"

"Brock told you?"

He nodded.

"Did he tell you what_ else_ she went to college for?"

There was a venom in his voice that Gary was not used to hearing, and he turned his head to look at the younger man. He almost stopped walking, but he remembered his teammates and the packing that needed to be done.

"No. What are you talking about?"

"Sorry," he waved his hand and chuckled. "Nothing. I was just being an ass."

"I have some experience with that," Gary carried on, curious now. "What'd she do?"

"Nothing," he said flatly. "She didn't do anything. Brock would bite my head off anyway, if I told you."

Unsatisfied, Gary reluctantly let it go. If he knew the other man a little better, he would have kept on trying to wrestle the story out of him.

Upon their return, Gary noticed that even Ritchie donned a backpack. It looked like there was going to be no time wasted on continuing their venture. His stomach turned a bit when he noticed Ash approaching, but he contained the feeling.

"Hey," the trainer held out a pack each, catching sight of the ball in Forrest's hand. "Nice – what is it?"

"A weepinbell," the darker man grinned.

"Where's Misty?"

"She should be back soon," he clarified. "She's releasing some of the Galactic pokemon."

Ash nodded.

"Hey, Forrest!"

Brock was calling across the yard, motioning to a small pokemon scuttling in the grass nearby him. Forrest hurried over, perhaps the first positive interaction the brothers had engaged in since the younger had arrived.

"A heracross?" Gary asked. "And did Brenda find anything?"

"He's actually Brenda's. Brock didn't find anything. He's a little small yet for fighting, but, uh…hey…" Ash trailed off so hesitantly that Gary found himself feeling nervous about what might be about to be brought up. "I want to give you something. You're going to need to need to get to Olivine City as soon as you can, so I want you to take Charizard."

He held out the pokeball in his hand. Gary exhaled, but his surprise clouded his relief.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah," he said lightheartedly. "I trust you with him."

_He trusts me with him -?_

Gary took the ball.

"We're going to get leaving," he went on. "You and May should probably get going too, whenever Misty gets back."

He didn't answer, but managed to nod slightly. Something about the situation didn't feel quite like it was really happening. How long had he spent searching for Ash? Already he was splitting up from him – and voluntarily, too? Ash was watching him, and he called out Charizard to fill the space where he should have had something sentimental to say.

"You're going to listen to Gary, alright?" Ash instructed, angling his neck up. The orange beast blew smoke. "Oh, who am I kidding? Take these."

He held out a small bag full of what looked like charred rocks.

"He likes them," he clarified. "Trust me."

He pocketed those too. Ash began to turn away.

"Hey," Gary stopped him, and there was no mistaking how the other man looked hopeful. "Don't get yourself killed or anything."

"That's sort of on my to-do list," he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Good," he shouldered past him in a way that was rougher than necessary and made way towards the house. "Smell ya later, loser."

Ash didn't get defensive or take offense. Instead, Gary heard from behind him the other man begin to laugh. Truly laugh – and it made…

_Shit._

It made him forget for a moment the bounty on his head, and the hell Galactic had made his life. He felt younger.

Happy.


	17. A Plan Falling Apart

**Disclaimer: I don't own Pokemon.**

* * *

They did not leave immediately. Though Misty returned in a timely fashion, she insisted they stay longer in hopes that she would catch some incredible water-type at the Lake of Rage. After three days of stalling, with her spending day and night out at the lake, Gary lost his patience. They finally lifted off, and were nearing Olivine City with their deadline ever approaching.

The three were pitching camp for the night in Route Thirty-Eight. The sun was beginning to set when May grabbed a bottle of something from her backpack and announced she would return shortly.

"Where are you going?" Gary called, but she didn't answer. Misty didn't seem concerned with figuring it out.

"She'll be back eventually," the redhead shrugged.

Gary settled back against a tree and ran his fingers through Umbreon's fur. She had been unable to sleep on Charizard's back due to her own nerves about it, and now the approaching moonlight was keeping her up. Her eyes fluttered lazily as she lay against his thigh.

"Just sleep, Umbreon," he tried to tell her. "Night sort of happens every twelve hours. You're not going to miss your last chance to play in the dark or anything."

May returned about a half hour later, and to Gary's surprise small streaks of her hair were now very noticeably blonde. The highlights looked good, there was no doubt, but they certainly confused him.

"Uh," he began, unsure if he wanted to compliment her or question her. "Am I the only one who didn't see the hair salon out here?"

"I did it myself, silly," she laughed. "I have a rotation coming up in Hoenn. They don't just judge the pokemon, you know. Especially in the "beauty" category."

Misty looked very unimpressed.

"You used some of our water supply to dye your hair?" She raised her eyebrows.

"Of course not!" May dismissed the other woman with a wave of her hand. "I'm not that inconsiderate. There's a little stream just a few minutes from here."

Misty stood up. Gary could tell by the look on her face that there was something very wrong with what May had just said.

"You dyed your hair," she began, "blonde…in a stream? With bleach then, right?"

"Uh-huh," she was playing with the newly brightened strands. "Not much, of course. There's not that much I dyed, see?"

Misty rushed into the trees, pushing past May in a way that was much more physical than necessary. The brunette yelped and turned on her heels to shout after her.

"What was that about!" She yelled, exhaling exasperatedly, disrupting the bangs in her face.

Gary had a feeling he was supposed to go find out. Begrudgingly he got to his feet, trying not to disturb his exhausted umbreon and followed after her. It took only moments to find the stream, where Misty was running up and down the length of it.

"What are you doing?"

"Help me look for water pokemon!" She demanded, suddenly hitting the ground with her knees and sifting through a patch of reeds.

"Are you sure that's safe?" He crossed his arms. "Or necessary?"

"She's bleaching her hair in a stream!" Misty shook her head. "What kind of person doesn't think about the pokemon living there, honestly –"

Gary decided to play along and helped, though he really didn't think he was going to find anything. Did hair bleach even have a high concentration of actual bleach? Was it the same thing at all? He had no idea. He had never changed the color of his hair in his entire life. Hell, he had hardly ever changed the cut.

They scoured the area for anything until Misty felt like she could return. Gary got the feeling that the storm was not yet averted by the way she stomped through the grass.

"That little –"

Gary had next to no time to deflect what was about to occur.

"Are you out of your mind?" She snapped upon return, where May was knelt into the grass, combing through her hair with her fingers. "There are water pokemon living in that stream! You know, because it's full of _water?_"

"Thanks for the report," May narrowed her eyes. "Is there some sort of problem?"

Misty had her hands on her hips.

"You could have given a wild pokemon some kind of chemical burn!" She snapped. "A lot of water-type's have very sensitive skin - and their eggs are even more easily damaged!"

"At least if that happened, they'd only be eggs," May shrugged. "They're not even _real_ pokemon yet."

Misty's jaw might have fallen off her face, if that were possible. She muffled an outraged scream and retreated to inside the tent. As May stifled her giggles, Gary drew a hand over his face.

It was going to be one hell of a trip.

* * *

"Neither of you have passports."

This was not a question, it was a statement of fact. Gary groaned, because he frankly did not have time for this set-back nor was he looking forward to whatever means of obtaining fake identification May might have thought up. They were walking on the periphery of Olivine City, backpacks on their backs and Umbreon trotting along after them. Misty was hanging back, and May was significantly in the lead, and Gary suspected that this was an obvious attempt by both women to avoid each other.

"No," Gary answered heavily, "we don't."

"We're going to have to do something about that," May contemplated, tapping her forefinger against her bottom lip. "I have a couple ideas, but they're not all…nice, per se."

"And what're those?" Gary inquired, knowing Misty wasn't going to.

"Well, a lot of people who come from out of town to take the ship stay in the hotel right by the dock," she began. "I can check us in there in, make some friends with people boarding the ship tomorrow, and…you know…"

"Steal their passports," he finished lamely.

"Yeah," she shrugged, looking none too excited about the plan herself. "Unless you have any better ideas."

Neither of them spoke up. Gary wished there were some other way to go about it. He knew that May didn't have any pokemon in her possession that could swim them across, nor could Charizard handle a trip over an entire ocean. With a quiet sigh, he made his way along with the group to the hotel.

The hotel was nice, but it was nothing special. Of course, he had seen some of the finest hotels both Kanto and Johto had to offer back in his days as Champion, but he supposed that he couldn't hold them all up to that standard. Since May was busy now checking them in, he was scanning the crowd in the dining room, hoping to find somebody who looked somewhat like himself or Misty. What were the odds of that, even?

He spent a few hours patrolling the various common rooms of the hotel in a way that felt very much like stalking to him. That was essentially what he was doing, wasn't it, though? Picking out a victim. But he wasn't having any luck. Getting fed up of wandering around alone while he felt certain May or Misty had been more successful somewhere in the hotel, he settled down at the bar in hopes he could forget about the whole mess. He might have usually ordered a beer, but he had the feeling that he would need something stronger to forget the predicament he was in.

_Do you even know the entire list of offenses Galactic wants to charge you with? Might as well add identity theft, right?_

He took some odd amount of shots quickly, perhaps too quickly. The ship was leaving in the morning and it was nearly ten P.M. What if he couldn't find anyone?

_You're not even looking anymore, so would that be much of a surprise?_

He wondered what Ash was doing.

"I'll have what he's having."

The feminine voice surprised him, but he was feeling dulled with alcohol and hardly reacted. He glanced out of the corner of his eye and something caught his attention. Short, brown hair.

_It's brown, but it's short…people dye their hair all the time._

"Do you mind?" The woman smiled at him. She had rosy cheeks and blue eyes. He was fairly certain he had rosy cheeks at the moment too, but it was the kind of blush that came from a few too quick drinks, not a cosmetics catalog.

_Blue eyes._

"Not at all," he answered, pulling out the chair for her. She giggled. She had been drinking already, though probably only slightly. He was not so tipsy that he couldn't tell these things.

"So," she started off, taking the shot that the bartender had provided her. She sputtered a bit. He thought it was cute. "Are you taking the ship tomorrow, too?"

"Bright and early," he answered with a winning smile. "Pretty smart of me to spend the night before at the bar, huh?"

He was certain he looked like a bum. His hair was pulled back slightly and tucked under a black cap which was facing backwards. He had about a week's worth of stubble grown back in. He definitely looked like the guy who took you home for the night and stole your wallet in the morning.

_But you are that guy tonight._

"Not any smarter than me," she smiled, and it was all teeth.

_Misty's, too._

"You'll be on the ship tomorrow, then?" He asked, tapping the wood for another drink.

"Yep," she answered. She had such long eyelashes. Misty didn't. Did security bother to look at things like that? Eyelashes?

He swallowed another shot. He thought maybe he should stop drinking until he stood up later. He wanted to look impressive, suave - and he needed to be able to walk in a straight line for that.

"What's in Hoenn for you?" He inquired, leaning a little bit closer. His hoodie felt uncomfortably tight, definitely hugging his chest. Maybe that was why she was talking to him.

"Some family," she shrugged, "and you?"

"Business," he grinned.

"What kind of business?"

"What's your name?" He asked, suddenly wanting to know. Perhaps he shouldn't have asked. But wouldn't he know it eventually anyway, if he followed through with his plan?

"Leslie," she replied, holding out her hand for him to shake. He took it, but neither of them really shook, nor did they let go.

"Henry," he returned, but the name felt foreign and uncomfortable off his tongue. In his slightly altered state of mind, the name brought back a host of memories he didn't want to examine. He wished that he had come up with something different, any name in the world. Sarah, for all he cared.

"You never answered my question."

He managed a smirk. Luckily he had years of practice with those.

"I don't like to mix business with pleasure, Leslie."

It was going well. Inside he felt sick.

* * *

When he had stood up, he had realized he was perhaps a little more intoxicated than he had meant to be.

That was the problem with alcohol. You never really knew how much it was affecting you until you got out of your chair. And it made you do all sorts of ridiculous things, like look in the bathroom mirror when you took a piss break and think of how Ash Ketchum wears his hat backwards sometimes too. Or give your absent father's name as your fake name to the woman you were trying to get into bed with that night.

So now he was rolling around a hotel room with said woman – and she was calling him his father, and that was practically all he noticed about her because he wasn't really thinking of her. He_ was_ thinking of how smooth her face was, and how she smelled like expensive perfume, and how she was incredibly curvy, much unlike Misty, but he was sure that wouldn't be a problem since passport photos only showed a person's face – but he wasn't sure he liked any of these things. Or rather, he liked them, but there was somebody else who _didn't_ have any of these things, and yet he wanted that somebody else so much more than this woman he had just met hours before.

When he woke up the next morning, he felt sick for many reasons.

His head was pounding, which he had expected. His mouth was desert dry. There was no light piercing through the windows yet, as he had suspected there would not be. He always woke up early the next morning when he drank. Oftentimes he fell right back asleep, but today that would not be the case.

He very carefully pushed back the blankets. His body protested. The room was too cold, too dark, his stomach was too uneasy. His bare feet touched the carpet. He wasn't even wearing socks? When had that happened?

His clothes were scattered across the room. He picked them up piece by piece, wanting to hurry but wanting to keep quiet all at the same time. His body disagreed with any quick movements, and so carefulness took priority over speed. He was dressed, and now it was time for the dirty work.

The woman's purse – Leslie's purse – was in plain sight. It was a small thing made of brown leather, and it took only moments to rifle through it, locate her passport and button the purse shut again. He swallowed thickly and put the small book into the front pocket of his hoodie. When the woman behind him shifted in the bed, he held his breath. She didn't seem to have woken up, or at least entirely. He grabbed a pen nearby and left a note on a piece of paper.

_Getting us breakfast._

He signed it Henry.

He didn't want her looking for him – not that she would. She was around his age, and if she woke up to an empty bed she would probably assume what had happened. But he thought the note might buy him some time lest she try to leave when she realized that she had been ditched. When she left he was sure she would notice her missing passport, and it wouldn't be hard to put the pieces together.

When he shut the door to his own hotel room behind him, he found Umbreon dozing in the bed that was meant for him to occupy. May was still missing. Misty was the only person to be found, fast asleep in her own twin bed. He went into the bathroom.

He thought he looked like hell. Staring into the mirror had been a poor choice. He took off the stupid had that made him look like a bad imitation of a thug. Why had that woman wanted to sleep with him anyway? He looked like a joke. He wanted to shave. He wanted to wear a sweatshirt, or maybe even something professional, not this hoodie that fit him too tight. He looked exhausted and sick, and he felt the same way. He splashed water into his face, but it helped nothing to wake him up.

He flipped open the passport, but found he didn't want to look at it.

"Gary?"

Someone was knocking at the door. It didn't sound like Misty.

"One second," he managed. He left the passport on the sink and took a few steps to the door and opened it slowly. It was May. She looked fine – like this were any normal morning.

"You feeling alright?" She asked. Her concern seemed legitimate.

"Hungover," he answered plainly. He didn't feel like talking about it.

"Did you get a passport for Misty?"

He nodded and pushed past her. His feet dragged across the carpet and he fell face first onto the spare bed that neither Misty nor Umbreon occupied.

"Don't fall asleep," May warned, "the ship leaves in about an hour. I'm going to take a quick shower and we'll head out."

Gary didn't think the odds of that happening were very high. He doubted he was going to be able to sleep that night.

* * *

Somehow they survived security. Careful studying of their respective passports, memorizing necessary information, and some make-up work by May who happened to be rather good at it, and they had boarded without a hitch. They had all agreed that it would be best if they continued using fake names when interacting with others, and until they got off the ship, the fake ones provided by their passports. It didn't take long for him to tire of the fake name deal, but he understood that it was necessary.

Their room had one full bed and a single twin. It was gold and red themed with deep colored wood and light walls and comfortable sheets. The attached bathroom was of high quality, and Gary was very happy with the accommodations. Umbreon seemed puzzled by the whole ordeal – whenever she was above deck, she seemed appalled that they were in a different place than last time she had popped up from below.

"Hey, David!"

Gary looked. It still took him a moment to respond to the false name, and frankly he was growing really tired of purposefully looking like a bum whenever he left his quarters, but they were a week into the trip without a hitch. He couldn't complain about that.

"What's up?" He replied. A man with a goatee was beckoning him over to a table. No doubt Tony wanted to play cards again – Gary had never really been much into gambling, but every male he had met on this ship seemed to be into it, and he had found he was rather good at it. He had even won the group money.

He felt only slightly better about having stolen someone's passport. He had slept with plenty of women and forgotten them in the next hour, but he had never taken anything from them, and especially nothing as valuable as their identification. So he handled it the best way he knew how.

He chose not to think about it.

"Where's that Umbreon of yours?" Tony asked as he sat down next to him. Beside him sat another man, much rounder than Tony, and to his right there was another who he had never met before. He had become quite familiar with the gambling group aboard the ship – or, David had. It wasn't as if they knew him. They knew his lie.

"Probably asleep," Gary shrugged. "She can't tell when it's day or night below deck – she's all screwed up."

"That's a nice pokemon you got with you," the chubbier man said, whose name was Devon. "My second cousin had an eevee once – cost him one hell of a fortune to get."

Gary smiled and he thought of when his grandfather had surprised him with her, so many years ago now.

"Yeah," he agreed, "they're not cheap. She's worth everything I have."

"You could make a fortune off her," the man he had never met shrugged. His tone was not malicious or greedy, but Gary couldn't help but take offense to it.

"No. Like I said," he began shuffling the deck, "she's worth everything I have."

There was a gentle rumble throughout the ship. Gary paused, confused by the vibrations coming through the floor and rocking his chair slightly. The rest of the party seemed unconcerned.

"Probably just some rough waves," one commented. "Come on, David, let's get this game going."

But as he threw the first card the ship shook again. This time, a woman nearby yelped as she tripped and landed on the floor. An infant started crying as it's mother worked to soothe it. Then the second wave stopped. He narrowed his eyes.

"Maybe we should see –"

"David," someone interrupted him, and he turned in his chair to find Misty approaching him, looking worried. She had her backpack on as usual. Unlike he and May, who frequently left theirs in their room, Misty seemed unwilling to be unprepared. "I was on my way back down to the room when I felt –"

The third shock wave sent a jolt through Gary which actually threatened to knock him out of his chair. Several people fell, others screamed in alarm, and Misty grabbed onto his shoulders to keep standing. By now the other men at his table were also looking afraid. There was a communal silence that fell over the boat.

Then, the real quakes began. This was powerful, constant – a quaking that sent half the room to the ground and objects sliding off tables. The cards in Gary's hand scattered when he released them to grab onto the table for leverage. Behind him, Misty stumbled and hit the floor with one knee.

It didn't subside. Growing increasingly more afraid, he managed to stumble to his feet.

"Find May!" He shouted. He had to shout to be heard over the growing shrieks of passengers and the sounds of furniture toppling. A bookshelf across the room smacked against the floor, a child barely dodging it. He began to hurry as quickly as he could without falling for the staircase.

"Wait!" Misty called after him, trying to stand as well. "Where are you –"

"We're taking on water!" Someone yelled, and the chorus of screams increased exponentially. He could no longer hear Misty finishing her sentence. He yelled back a reply, but was unsure if it would reach her ears.

"To get Umbreon!"

The shuddering of the ship increased and Gary fell against the wall, using it as leverage to keep his footing. He dodged people rushing or falling or screaming around him and made his way to the staircase. Misty was lost behind him now. He stumbled through the door and into the stairwell and began to creep his way down when a new jolt struck the boat and sent him spiraling down the stairs. It was over so quickly he hardly registered it until his back struck the bottom stair and he groaned.

_Umbreon._

He didn't bother to get to his feet again. Another crash kept him crawling on his hands and knees for balance until he came down the first hallway of rooms. Several doors were open and swinging, and one nearly struck him as he crawled. His ribs and back ached from the fall, but he ignored the pain. When he reached the door, he stood on his knees and turned the handle.

Umbreon flew out like a bullet. She scrambled past him and in her haste hit the other wall, yelping. Confused and unbalanced, she tried to run but merely stumbled over her own paws. When she noticed Gary, she tried to rush to him clumsily, but could not find her footing in the constant quaking of the ship. Gary reached out and grabbed her forelegs, pulling her the rest of the way into his arms.

"I've gotcha," he told her, trying to keep his voice calm, even as a chandelier down the hall hit the floor with a shrill crash and shattered. "It's a little hard to walk right now, isn't it?"

Then the ship lurched sickeningly. It was not another set of shakes, but as if the entire ship were moving, were flipping. His stomach fell. He tumbled head over heels backwards until he smacked into the far wall of his room through the open door, Umbreon scratching his chest through his shirt as he kept her tight in his grip. He blinked, dazed, and noticed the claw marks on the inside of the door.

The rings on Umbreon's fur pulsed brighter as the ship turned again, and this time the wall became the floor. Gary yelled as a dresser crashed onto its side and came sliding towards him, spilling their belongings across the room. Umbreon hissed and scrambled to avoid the approaching bed, which crashed into the wall and covered her in pillows. He landed against something cool and smooth, and as the ship heaved for a final time he realized what it was.

A window – with a beautiful, undersea view.

A vortex of water and shattered glass sucked him out of the room, liquid filling his throat and nose. Panicking, he reached in what direction he thought was up, only to hit the smooth hull of a sinking ship. He gasped with alarm – a mistake – sucking in more water as he paddled around the blockade. The pressure in his chest built. He felt like his eyes were going to bug out of his head if he did not close them tightly enough.

Then his hand hit the air.

Scrambling, his upper body followed suit, and he coughed and wheezed, spitting up salty water. He was choking it up by what felt like the bucketful, trying not to heave up his entire stomach contents while also trying to remain afloat. The ocean around him was chaotic. He was not the only human being floating in the cascading waves, though some were face down, others in condensed pools of red. He could still see half of the ship behind him above water, tipped up into the air – the other portion below the waves. He looked around urgently, splashing and sputtering.

"Umbreon?" He called, his voice watery. "Umbreon!"

White froth splashed up at his face. His soaked jacket was becoming heavy.

"Umbreon!"

More human screams. A quilava corpse floated by him.

_Oh God oh God please –_

He dove under, opening his eyes to the burning salt water. He welcomed it. Where was she? He did not see her. He came up for air as a piece of a door floated by. He grabbed at it, but another man was already trying to climb up onto it despite the fact that his size dwarfed that of the driftwood. He shrieked and swung at Gary to claim it.

Instead, Gary worked his way out of his jacket and let it sink.

_"Umbreon!"_

As he scanned the surroundings he noticed a red lifeboat filling with people. Where had a lifeboat come from? Were they aboard the ship? Had someone managed to deploy them?

"Help!" He started screaming, but nobody around him was listening. He was fairly certain he could hear a chorus of others shouting the same thing. "Help!"

_This can't be it where is she –_

Something kicked up waves at him, and he dipped underwater for a moment. When he arose, he noticed a swift rescue boat had swung by him and was picking up survivors. The boat tossed something red and plastic into the water, which began to deploy once it hit the waves. Another lifeboat. It began to fill with survivors, drifting farther from the rescue boat but connected by a thick rope.

A black-furred creature was clawing frantically at the edge of the life raft, and Gary's heart skipped a beat.

"Umbreon!" He cried and he began to swim toward her. Someone smacked her on the muzzle, trying to shoo her from the raft, but in her panic she continued to try. A man who had removed his shirt rolled it up quickly and smacked her with it, emitting a wet slap in time with her yelp. The roar of rescue boat engines grew louder – there had to be more around him. Someone grew tired of trying to deter the dark-type and Gary saw her seized by the scruff and hauled into the raft at the same moment that he noticed the symbol on the side.

Team Galactic.

_No no no –_

_"Umbreon!"_ He screamed, reaching the rubbery sides and grabbing on. A woman hollered at him.

"We're full!"

He ignored her. He didn't care at all about the people in the raft, or even if he ever set foot inside the damn thing, but he was not leaving without his umbreon, they would have to drown him before he left his umbreon.

He hauled half his body into the raft, over soaked legs and screaming voices. He reached out and grabbed Umbreon from behind by a handful skin and fur, pulling in a way he knew must be painful but had no time to mind. She rounded on him quicker than he could react to and bit down on his forearm, drawing blood. He cried out and two men grabbed him by the shoulders, lifting him into the air temporarily before he crashed back down beneath the waves.

It was almost peaceful beneath the water. The sun cast an glassy look across the surface from below. Then it was shattered as Umbreon's legs came crashing through in a torrent of bubbles, and he resurfaced to find her in front of him, scrambling to him, trying to haul herself onto his shoulders.

"Stop," he panted, without the energy anymore to be any louder. He grabbed her forepaws to stop her from drowning him and rested them on his shoulders, but even then he sank a little deeper. He kicked more feverishly, losing a waterlogged sock. "I've got you. Relax, relax. I've got you."

Someone nearby threw a ball into the air and released a huge fearow. It screamed and swept down on the man, plucking him from the water with surprising delicacy and carrying him into the sky. The idea clicked, and he managed to sink one hand to his pocket, where he realized only one pokeball remained where there should have been three.

_No no no Ash's charizard –_

Before he could wrestle it from his pocket something sent a huge wave over he and Umbreon. She scrambled anew and took skin from his arms with her claws. When they reemerged, he found a sight that horrified him.

A giant gyarados emerged from the sea, and the entire ocean seemed to erupt in screams. But it wasn't any gyarados, attracted by the chaos and blood. It was one topped by a woman, distinguished easily by her bright orange hair even at the distance he was. The Galactic boats began to fire at the beast, but it fired a hydro pump that sent one boat riding an enormous wave away from the destruction. With a roar, he sunk into the water until only his back scales remained above and rode with speed that churned up waves. Gary began to flail and scream, trying to gather Misty's attention while keeping Umbreon calm, but it seemed the woman had already spotted him, and directed the gyarados by his whiskers, which she held in either hand, to pull up beside him like he were some rowboat.

"Climb on!" She commanded. He swam over, Umbreon paddling after him, and hauled himself onto the back of the creature by gripping his scales. Umbreon watched wide-eyed, and didn't make a move to follow.

"Get up here!" He shouted, grabbing her by the scruff and dragging her up as she hissed in protest. A gunshot rang out nearby, and there was a sound like nicked metal and then a cry from Umbreon. Gary balked in panic and confusion as he noticed blood beginning to thicken the fur near her hip. "Go, _go!"_

Misty was on it. The gyarados sped off, barely under her control, sending them half beneath the water with every dip of his back to propel himself forward. Soon they were out of range of shooters, and the wreckage was disappearing behind them, leaving Gary to come down from his adrenaline.

"Come here, girl," he whispered, pulling Umbreon a little closer. She whimpered. Misty said nothing, nor did she look in their direction a few yards back. "Let's see what happened to you."

He could assume the sound he had heard after the gunshot was a bullet ricocheting off of Gyarados' practically impenetrable scales. But those flying bullets had to go somewhere, and one had gone straight for his umbreon, striking her in the hip. It had not had enough energy left to go very deep in – he could see the end of the bullet as he examined her – but this was not a place on her body that she had a lot of fat. The bullet had pierced right through muscle and Gary feared part of her hip might have fractured, or worse, broken. Without warning he seized the end of the bullet and worked it from her wound, ignoring her hisses. He tossed it aside.

"Sorry, girl."

She didn't appear angry. In fact, she blinked her red eyes several times and shifted so that her front end was facing him, pushing her nose into the bite mark on his forearm. She sniffed it a few times and rubbed her forehead across it.

"Don't worry about it," he answered. He could feel the scratches across the rest of his arms and on his chest stinging with salt water, but he had practically forgotten about them in light of her bullet wound.

There was no sound but the sloshing of the water against Gyarados' scales. Watching Umbreon nuzzle at his scratches, he slowly began to boil about her injured hip.

"What were you doing with him," he began lowly. It took Misty a moment to answer. She looked back at him, but he did not turn his head away from his starter.

"With…?"

"Don't play stupid with me, Misty!" He yelled, causing her to flinch. He stared at her with an intensity he hadn't felt since he had first looked Ash Ketchum in the eyes after twelve years – and he had tried to knock him out, then. "What are you doing with this gyarados?_ Why are we riding on my gyarados?"_

She swallowed so hard he could see it in her pale neck.

"I…I didn't release him."

"I can fucking see that!" He shouted. Umbreon's ears lay flat against her and she blinked every time he yelled anew. "Why'd you do it, Misty? Huh? Couldn't wait to get your hands on a big exciting water-type, could ya?"

"I thought it would be good for us," she hurried to explain. "And I mean, we're lucky we have him now! What would we be riding on if –"

"A ship!" He screamed. "A goddamn _ship_, Misty!"

She was dead silent. Her face looked clammy, like she was not up to this fight at all.

"I bet May feels really fucking lucky, huh?" He kept going, chuckling bitterly. "Really fucking lucky that we had this gyarados! Wherever the hell she is, huh? But I doubt you care about that. What's one annoying little bitch if you get to train a big strong water pokemon?"

"Don't talk like that about me!" She suddenly burst back, but her voice was shaky. "You know I didn't mean for this to happen! I didn't think Ash was right about the tracking code in the pokeballs!"

"He was!" Gary spread his arms wide, laughing almost insanely at the vast ocean surrounding them. "He was, Misty! And why's this thing listening to you so well?"

"What thing?"

"The damn gyarados!"

"He's just tired and hungry."

"Those things make a gyarados _more_ aggressive!" He snapped. "Do you think you're the only person in the world who knows anything about this species?"

She didn't look like she wanted to answer. She still gripped the whiskers in either fist when she sputtered out the truth.

"I stalled those few days before we left so that I could work with him."

Gary began to laugh. If such a psychotic sound were coming from anyone else, he would have jumped into the ocean and risked whatever wild pokemon might have him.

"I started thinking about it ever since Ash told us we should get rid of our Galactic pokemon," Misty confessed on. Then her tone started to get more defensive. "You were never going to train him anyway, Gary. You couldn't have been bothered to put this kind of work into –"

The sentence struck a chord in him before it was even finished. He couldn't be bothered? He didn't even care what she was talking about, he was tired of hearing this common theme.

"How about this," he crawled to his feet, leaving Umbreon whining for his return. He took a few unsteady steps across the back of the giant water-type and pointed grimly at the woman who faced him. "I'm sick and tired of people telling me what I can't be bothered with. So you can take the rest of that thought, and shove it up your ass. Don't you dare for a second think that you know me well enough to claim anything like that, because hey, I thought I knew you, and it turns out you're a thief and a liar! I should throw you off the side of this fucking beast for the sharpedo to have for what _you_ caused _my_ umbreon!"

Misty said nothing in return, but her eyes were wide and swimming. Gary retreated to the farthest side of Gyarados that was still above water and pulled the remaining pokeball he had from his pocket. Umbreon looked anxious, but unwilling to move her hip she did not join him. He stared at the ball in his hand for a moment, one thousand fearful thoughts racing through his mind, and kissed it lightly before he pressed the button.

Nothing.

His breathing quickened. He jammed his thumb down on the button several more times. Finally the ball popped open with a click.

Empty.

"No," he muttered, dropping the empty ball onto Gyarados' scales and frantically feeling each pocket, turning them inside out, repeating the motions. Nothing. He had nothing else.

Gary sat down. He leaned over the split open ball, as if it would suddenly procure the massive fire-type he had hoped to see. With a smack, he sent it flying off the side of his living raft and slammed both fists down onto hard scales. He repeated the motion until his hand struck the edge of one, slicing open his palm and drawing blood.

_"Fuck!"_ He screamed, hot tears running down his cheeks. Gary Oak began to cry – the uncontrollable sobs that wrack your body and leave you gasping for more air. He bit his bottom lip so hard in his attempts to stifle them that he was sure now it was bleeding as well. He couldn't hear Misty Waterflower sniffling quietly on the other side of their perch, nor Umbreon's whimpers from the middle, but he could clearly hear Ash Ketchum's voice.

_I trust you with him._


	18. The Assignment

There are a couple perspective jumps in this chapter, so let me know your thoughts about those if you have any. I tried to keep them interesting for you as we're going to learn some brief back story in this chapter. Also, a fun fact - Footsoldiers has officially gotten so long on my Word program that it was causing my computer major issues to open the document, and I had to create a second Word document to continue writing it. Just to give you all an idea of how much work has been getting done on this baby!

**Disclaimer: I don't own Pokemon.**

* * *

They had spent their first night in Ecruteak City. Ash Ketchum was relieved to be clean and well-rested again, but he was anxious to keep going. The itch he felt to keep travelling with intense, like it had been back when he had first started his journey alone. He hadn't felt it like this in years. In fact, he had noticed its return only after half of their group had left for Hoenn.

It was like his subconscious knew that somewhere in the world, Gary Oak was making progress with half of their team, and he felt the pressure to keep up with the other.

Brock had generously prepared them a meal which Ash was scarfing down. The Pewter Gym leader was growing out his beard and wearing unnecessary glasses in some attempt to disguise himself, but unfortunately was getting nothing but a hard time for it from his younger brother.

"Hey, Brock," the man chuckled from across the table, "you're starting to look like Dad with that beard."

Brock paused mid-spoonful of soup to stare daggers at his younger counterpart. Forrest fell silent, trying to conceal the mischievous grin on his face. Brock did not appear amused at all.

From years of traveling with Brock in the past, Ash knew a thing or two about his parents. Lola Harrison was a woman with a good heart but a knack for the bottle, which left her in a nearly constant state of inability to care for her many children. Incredibly religious, she believed birth control was a sin and was going to take no part in that no matter how many more children she had than she could take care of. Her husband Flint was a different story – a man who had left his family to make something great of himself and raise them from poverty and returned a failure, angry with the world, the government, but mostly himself. He took it out on his children, but never when Brock was around. Brock frequently bore beatings meant for nine people without complaint. How could he? His siblings were younger than him, many of them by many years. This had begun around age eleven for him, and had only come to an end at the age of eighteen, on a night when Brock and his father had finished things between them in a final showdown. Both parties were intoxicated – an unusual sight, Ash imagined, because he had never seen Brock so much as touch a beer, let alone anything stronger – and had quickly escalated into a physical confrontation that had spilled out of their house, onto their porch and into the streets of Pewter. Ash had never heard of any other instance of Brock Harrison using violence to accomplish anything, nor had he ever seen any evidence that he might. But he did know that Flint left Pewter City that night, and Brock had not seen or heard from him since.

Ash also knew that Brock Harrison had taken his own mother to court and won the guardianship of his siblings, all of whom at this point were still underage. It was a move that devastated his mother, who moved out of the house and across the city though still continued contact with her children, but that caught the attention of authority figures in Pewter. Fighting for the custody of nine children was not a move that he imagined was popular among teenage young men. The current gym leader of the time offered Brock a position at the gym to help financially – it paid much better than his previous work. Within the year, Pewter City Gym had been placed in the hands of Brock Harrison.

After hearing his story all those years ago, Ash had felt very reluctant to tell Brock about his own family life. So he had a father who had skipped out on parenting and a mother who was not very well off financially. Those had hardly seemed like difficult situations to deal with after hearing the summary of Brock Harrison's childhood.

That night Ash found himself staring off the balcony of their hotel. Pikachu was perched on the railing, sniffing and watching. He wanted to sleep, but for some reason he didn't feel like he could.

_I wonder where Gary's at right now._

But of course he knew the answer to that. He was with May and Misty, and they were aboard their ship on its way to Hoenn. Still, he couldn't help but wish that they hadn't had to split up. Especially after…

_Don't start thinking about _that _again. _

Ash sighed and put his head on the railing. What had that been supposed to mean, anyway? Did it mean anything? Did Gary even think about it anymore? If he brought it up, would he just tease him about it? He hadn't been rude afterwards, not even the next morning. It had surprised Ash, really. Pleasantly surprised him.

Ugh. What did he want, anyway? Gary to write him letters or something from the ship? Was he a thirty-one year old man or a sixteen year old girl?

"Hey."

Ash jumped a little, but it was only Brock, stepping out onto the balcony to join him.

"Can't sleep?" Brock asked, folding his arms across the railing.

"Yeah," he answered with a sigh. "I guess I'm just anxious."

"Well, I'm glad to see you getting into it," Brock replied. "You weren't so enthusiastic when we first showed up at your cabin."

Ash chuckled a little.

"You should really try twelve years out of the real world, Brock," he suggested lightheartedly. "You might not want to go back either."

"Right," Brock began, "like I could spare twelve minutes."

"So why can't you sleep?" Ash asked. He was glad that conversation was coming more naturally between he and Brock. He wasn't sure if he could ever salvage something akin to normalcy with Misty, but with Brock it might be possibly to mend their friendship.

"Stress," Brock ran a hand through his hair. "This whole thing is probably going to give me a heart attack. On top of it, Brenda and Forrest are here now..."

"Think of it positively," Ash offered. He thought of Gary sailing in the ocean and imagined if he could have him closer – then he tried to dismiss it, because comparing his situation with Gary to an engaged couple was ridiculous. But it wouldn't leave his mind entirely. "At least Brenda's with you. Anything that happens in Kanto we're too far away to stop, and here she's got you."

Brock looked only slightly reassured. "It wouldn't bother me so much if they were just here to stay. They could even get an apartment or something in Mahogany and – maybe, if it were safer – bring the rest of the kids over, but…they would never do that. They want to help, and that's what bothers me."

Ash noticed that though almost all of his siblings were out of their teens, Brock still referred to the entire group of them as children.

"I just hope it doesn't bring them any trouble," he sighed. "I'd never…"

"Nothing's going to happen," he smiled. "Alright? We might hit some rough patches here and there, there's no way around that. But we'll get out of them together."

Brock smiled halfheartedly.

"I know you'd do anything for either of them," Ash added, "and I want you to know that I will too. If it's your family, it's my family, okay?"

Brock chuckled, but he looked legitimately grateful.

"Thanks, Ash," he said. "I mean it – and the same goes for you."

"I don't have any family here," he chuckled.

"Sure you do," Brock shrugged, motioning towards where Pikachu was yawning at the sky, and then at his belt, where five pokeballs were secured. Ash smiled. "Do you think everyone's doing alright? May and Misty and Gary."

"I don't see why not," he tried to continue his positivism. "Especially when they've got Gary."

Brock glanced out of the corner of his eye, but Ash didn't catch it, adjusting his hat and watching the moon.

"You know," the older man continued, "he's not nearly as bad as you used to make him sound."

"We had some issues," Ash shrugged with a slight grin. "He's still an ass, though."

"That's true," Brock laughed, and it was so unexpected from the polite gym leader that Ash laughed too. "I didn't know him much back then, but he seemed way more arrogant. He must have really mellowed out at some point."

"Don't give him too much credit," Ash was smiling absentmindedly, staring off into the clouds. "If he ever hears that you talk well about him when he's not around it'll go right to his head."

"I'll make sure not to bring it up when we meet up with them again," Brock added, and the smile slipped from Ash's features. Brock noticed. "They'll be fine, Ash. I'm sure of it."

The dark-haired trainer nodded.

"Yeah. Of course they will."

* * *

Most injured survivors had been helicoptered off the scene. There was still the screaming child every now and then, but for the most part things had mellowed out in the ocean off of Hoenn. May Maple was below deck of one of the rescue boats, wondering what in the hell Team Galactic forces were doing this far into the ocean for no apparent reason. How they had just happened to be around when the ship had sunk.

She smelled something fishy about this whole situation, that was for sure.

"Excuse me."

She turned in her red leather seat, clutching the towel around her that she had been given to dry off with. It wasn't very effective, as her clothes were still soaked either way, but at least it warmed her up somewhat. Her hair stuck to her face in strings. The woman standing next to her on the other hand looked put together – a classic Galactic uniform, yet with a skirt modification, and short red hair. She was smiling, but something about it looked off, like her features weren't used to it.

"Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?" She continued on innocently. She was batting her eyes excessively, and May narrowed hers – did this woman think that she had never pulled this act herself before?

"No," May answered, "not at all."

"We have evidence that suggests three highly dangerous criminals were aboard that ship," She reached into her pocket and pulled something out. May noticed with unease that a creepy-looking mismagius – what mismagius didn't look creepy? – was floating about the room nearby. The various other survivors around her seemed leery as well, and when it approached a small child the youngster began to cry. The woman hardly flinched. "Have you seen any of these people?"

She had three photos, probably prints from the trios actual I.D's back in Kanto. Misty and Brock were straight-faced, and the center photo was of Gary Oak with a slight smirk. It didn't look too shabby at all, for an I.D picture.

"Can I ask your name?" May answered instead. The redhead looked annoyed for only a fraction of a second.

"Administrator Mars," she purred. The mismagius was still hovering around the small girl, making her whimper and squeezing tears out of her eyes.

"I haven't seen anyone like that," she replied curtly, "can you put that thing away? It's making that little girl cry."

Mars looked over her shoulder at the ghost-type with surprising disdain.

"I'd be all too happy to," she obliged, much more easily than May had anticipated, and removed a pokeball from her pocket and returned it. Mars looked ready to move on to the next survivor when the pokeball rolled from her pocket as if on its own. May and Mars both watched it in confusion as the pokeball shook and rotated, like it were struggling to contain a wild pokemon. But it did not open. Admin Mars bent down and picked up the protesting technology before pressing the button and releasing the mismagius again.

To May's horror, the ghost-type was unleashed with a torrent of giggles and made a beeline for her. It stopped just short of touching her and May closed her eyes as it hovered around her at all angles.

"Come on," Mars commanded irritably, but the specter ignored her. May tried to will the thing away, but it seemed nothing could keep it away from her, and it only giggled madly at every attempt.

The entire room was staring now. Admin Mars had gone from trying to deter the pokemon to watching May with increasing interest, like a swellow sizing up a bug-type. How she wished the ghost would leave her alone.

"What's your name?" The redhead asked cautiously, returning her full attention to the brunette.

"May Maple," she answered. She had no reason to lie. There was no way that Galactic could trace her back to Gary, Misty and Brock – she was a Hoenn native who had never had a run in with Team Galactic before in her life. As far as they knew, she had never met those three before.

"Well, May," she began, "I'm going to take you in for some mild questioning…if that's alright by you, of course."

"I'm not sure I'm comfortable with that," May carried on, finding herself unable to look away from the delighted mismagius.

Admin Mars made a disappointed face. Then she knelt down as if she were addressing a child, and lowered her voice to where the rest of the room could no longer eavesdrop.

"You see, sweetheart," she began, venomously sweet. "This is a matter of national security. So while I would love to have your permission…my question was rather rhetorical."

May stared.

"There's no need to be nervous," she smiled, splitting cherry red lips across white teeth. "You have nothing to worry about, so long as you cooperate with me."

She straightened back up, that out-of-place smile still plastered on her face.

"Now that doesn't sound too difficult, does it?"

When Admin Mars moved on to the next survivor, May let go of the breath she had been holding.

* * *

May was both surprised and alarmed to find herself in Goldenrod City when the rescue ship docked. This worried her even more than the fact that she was the only survivor being brought back for more questioning – the only one Mismagius had paid any attention to, apart from tormenting children. This behavior made her nervous, and she had to talk herself down from panic several times by reminding herself that there was no way this pokemon could know that she knew Gary, Misty and Brock. It wasn't a psychic-type, it couldn't read minds. _Could _psychic-types even read minds? She cursed herself for not paying more attention in school.

"You're not taking me to Kanto?" She asked as Admin Mars' grunts led her out of the boat. She was not handcuffed or restrained in any way, but she could plainly see the pistols on each of their hips and was not inclined to try and escape.

"Your ship was on its way to Hoenn," Admin Mars led them to a main road and down the street. Passersby didn't seem concerned with the Team Galactic presence in their city. "Once our questioning is over, we'll be happy to give you free transportation back to your city of choice. The trip will be shorter from Johto than Kanto."

She felt that she was supposed to thank them here, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. Where could she possibly be going in this city that there was a Galactic set-up? Hadn't Ritchie mentioned that Goldenrod City's gym leader was incredibly against Galactic activity in Kanto? How had they set anything up here?

Worse yet, Ritchie, Ash, and the rest of their group had no idea, and when they had left Mahogany they had done so with plans to head for this very city.

She was escorted to a two-story building, which was nothing fantastic considering the rest of Goldenrod. Inside it appeared to be an office building, but Galactic grunts were bustling around, many of them looking bored. It was clearly not a place meant for an organization like Galactic – why were they set up here at all?

These were not questions that May could answer, nor could she ask. Admin Mars vanished, and two grunts led her into an elevator which drew her up to the second floor, a single large room with several couches on one end and a desk at the other. They left her alone there and disappeared back down the elevator.

The first thing she noticed was the phone, but she resisted the urge to try and contact Ritchie with it. She couldn't be certain that he had brought his cell phone on their journey to Goldenrod, and she couldn't be certain that someone wouldn't appear in the room she was standing in very shortly. So instead she sat at one side of the desk, noting oddly that there was also a chair on the opposing side. She examined her belt, making sure her pokeballs were all secured. Thankfully, they had not taken them away from her, nor had she lost any in the shipwreck.

When Admin Mars emerged from the elevator alone, she kept one hand nonchalantly at her side, her index finger resting on Blaziken's ball.

"Hello, May."

She wasn't sure how to respond, but she didn't want to appear rude and uncooperative and add evidence against herself.

"Administrator," she greeted.

"I'm going to start with just a few simple questions," she began, taking a seat at the chair across the desk. In her lap May noticed a manila folder. "What is your name?"

May felt puzzled. "I've already told you my name."

"Full name, please."

"May Ruth Maple," she tried not to roll her eyes. How she hated her middle name. It sounded like something that might have been popular three centuries ago.

"Where are you from?"

"Hoenn," she began, and then thought to add, "Petalburg City."

"And what were you doing in Johto?"

"Visiting a friend," she said tartly, growing unhappy with all the personal questions already.

"I'm going to have to ask that you be more specific than that, sweetheart."

She was growing unhappy with being condescendingly called sweetheart, too.

"I was visiting an old friend in Johto," she sighed irritably. "He lives in Ecruteak City. I can give you his name if you want."

With a thump that made her flinch, Mars threw the manila folder from her lap onto the desk, spewing papers across the wood and scattering some to the floor. One slid into her lap, but Mars began to speak before she could read a word of it.

"I'm not interested in fake names," she snapped loudly, and May was taken aback by the sudden character change. "Or your made-up stories. I am a very busy woman and I do not have the patience to match. Do you understand?"

May hurried to continue feigning innocence.

"But I wasn't –"

"Do not lie to me!" She screamed, removing a pokeball from her pocket and releasing it. May prepared for any number of deadly beasts to emerge and flay her alive, but what appeared was the ghostly form of the mismagius she had seen earlier. Mars stood and quickly crossed the room to a small end table, where there was placed a radio. Swiftly she returned, practically smashing the device down onto the desk. May cringed, and placed her hand entirely over Blaziken's ball, waiting first to see what Mars might do.

"Mismagius," the redhead addressed the pokemon calmly, her expression now terrifyingly smug rather than furious. "Do tell me – have you seen May Maple with Gary Oak?"

She turned the radio on.

"Weather today looks –_ bzzt_ – cloudy skies, and – _bzzt bzzt_ – forecast –_ bzzt bzzt YESYESYESYESYES –"_

May screamed and her hands flew from either side of her to her ears reflexively. Mars' face appeared fiendishly delighted. The horrifying voice wailing through the radio was neither male nor female, and did not seem to bother the administrator.

_"- YESYESYESYESYESYES –"_

May screwed her eyes shut and gritted her teeth. The mismagius began to scream merrily, though the chanting through the radio continued as well like they originated from different sources rather than the same pokemon. She opened her eyes the tiniest bit, about to make a move for her Blaziken when she realized the ghost-type was now directly before her, and then suddenly through her. She shook violently, her stomach did flips, and her eyes flew open. Her body broke into a cold sweat and she felt frozen – or was she dead?

May collapsed out of her chair.

* * *

"How are you today, Oak?"

Samuel Oak's quarters were not unpleasant. In fact they were nicer than many of the places he had stayed at over the course of his long life. He had a king-sized bed to himself, and a master bathroom as well. He had been brought anything that he had expressed desire in, including a television, the daily newspaper each morning, and a series of his favorite novels, which grunts had even installed a bookshelf for.

This behavior unnerved him.

"Wonderful, Jupiter," he grinned halfheartedly. He rose from the rocking chair beside his bed and made his way over to the door which she was closing behind her. "I am warm, clean, and fed fat. For all your hospitality, I cannot help but wonder when you plan to take me to the slaughterhouse."

She smiled. It looked uncomfortable on her, with her tight bun already pulling back the skin on her face.

"No slaughterhouse today, old man. I have something better than that."

"Ah," he eyed a thick folder in her hands and followed her to the extravagant glass dining table in the center of his quarters. "What might this be?"

"This," she set it down, "is your assignment. Your first, to be precise."

She slid it towards him across the table, and turned to exit the room.

"Study hard."

The bolts on the other side of the door clanged and clattered, an unsettling reminder that this beautiful arrangement was not one with any freedom to leave. Curious, he reached for the folder and pulled it closer, settling into a chair. The front bore a red stamp that read 'confidential'.

He opened it. Inside there was a thick, hole-punched document securely clipped together and to the folder. But more intriguingly to him were the papers clipped to the insides of the front and back manila pages.

Graphs. Data. Records. Equations. Some paper clipped together, others loose leaf. A picture fell, fluttering to the wooden floor. He reached down and retrieved it.

He frowned.

A drawing of Giratina.


	19. Land Ho

Attention, readers and reviewers, if you have not seen Pokemon: The Mew-sical you need to direct yourself to Youtube immediately. Naturally, Gary made me laugh the hardest, but the entire thing was an absolute delight to watch if you have a sense of humor.

_"You think that you can go on? _

_Incorrect, but the deck has been stacked in your favor._

_Reflect all you want to - then check out your savior!_

_Can't you see I'm not the enemy?_

_It's destiny, Ashy - you need me!"_

**Disclaimer: I don't own Pokemon.**

* * *

Had anyone been present on the beach, it would have looked like a scene from a movie. Two haggard shipwreck survivors and their umbreon hauling themselves onto the beach from the back of a giant gyarados, sinking into the sand with every step until the man simply collapsed onto his back. The sun was beating down relentlessly in Hoenn, and Gary covered his face with his arms and closed his eyes, panting. The exertion it had taken him to crawl up the beach was embarrassing for him to admit. His stomach felt empty and he was parched, having run out of drinking water earlier that morning. His face was undoubtedly sunburned, along with various other exposed parts of his body, while Misty's normally pale skin practically matched her hair. Umbreon limped behind him, coming to a halt as soon as she was close enough to collapse onto his ribs.

Gary sat up slowly, trying not to jar Umbreon too much. Her hip was swelling slightly and she was obviously trying not to move as much as possible. When he noticed that Misty had swung her backpack over her head a few yards away and was pulling out a pokeball from her pack, he stood up abruptly, Umbreon protesting, and closed the gap between them.

"What are you doing?" He snapped, lunging for the pokeball.

"Stop!" She dodged, stumbling in the sand. "I'm recalling –"

"You're not recalling anything!" Gary followed her stumble into the sand, pushing her down with him. They wrestled briefly, Gary latching a hand onto the pokeball which Misty held in both of hers. The redhead was shouting madly, cursing and kicking sand at him while he attempted to rip the machine from her grip.

Suddenly, there were hands on his shoulders and someone had thrown him roughly from his brawl with Misty and he landed back first in the sand. There was a hiss from Umbreon's direction and he covered his eyes with his arm as a shadow ball blew up grains of sand when it connected near the man who had thrown him. The newcomer lowered his arms, which had thrown up to his face, unharmed. It had been a warning.

"Who the hell are you?" Gary shouted. He was in no mood for this. Misty was already getting to her feet and rushing for the ocean.

"What do you think you're doing, man?"

"Me?" Gary pointed a finger at his own chest. "We don't even know you!"

The man was bald, though Gary didn't suspect he was old enough to have lost it naturally. He didn't look more than five years older than either of them. He was wearing overalls and had a fishing rod in one hand.

"Listen, I don't want to get much involved in this," he went on, pointing a finger at Gary. His voice had the same accent that May's did. "But you're not going to lay hands on your lady in my yard, got it?"

"Lady?" Gary narrowed his eyes before what the other man was thinking actually set in. "Oh, you've got it all wrong –"

"He's gone!" Misty let out an exasperated cry, interrupting him. "The gyarados is gone."

"Good!" Gary shouted back spitefully. "I hope she never sees another gyarados in her entire life."

"What's going on here, exactly?" The man was looking back and forth between them.

Gary wasn't sure how to explain, or if he wanted to. Instead he told the man that they had been out at sea on Misty's gyarados, but had gone out too far and become disoriented.

He thought it was best to leave out the part about the shipwreck and the fake identities.

The man – whose name was Ben – happened to be a fisherman on the beach. He lived in Slateport City, which it turned out was not too far off. Gary wracked his brain to remember if he had ever been, but he was quite sure he had never visited anywhere in Hoenn outside of Lilycove City. After settling the miscommunication that Gary was some sort of abusive boyfriend of Misty's, Ben showed them back to his house, confident that he could lend a hand with Umbreon's hip.

"I've got a vaporeon myself," he grinned as they walked along, Gary carrying Umbreon in an inconvenient heap in his arms. "Pretty rare. You don't see eevee out in the wild anymore – not that you ever did, in Hoenn."

"You do?" Gary was genuinely interested. Misty was quiet throughout, even as they came upon Slateport. "How did you get one?"

"A gift," he smiled. "He's a big help with fishing."

It was a rare instance to meet another trainer with an eevee or one of its evolutions. He could count the times he had happened across them on one hand. Not only was it expensive to get an eevee, but once you had one it opened up a potential goldmine for a trainer. Since they were so rare, people would pay fortunes to get you to ship yours to wherever there's might be for breeding. Though Gary had considered it before, he had never gotten around to trying to breed his umbreon. He had always seemed too busy – and with Umbreon constantly at his side, it seemed too strange to consider having her out of commission for battle for any unnecessary amount of time. After Team Galactic had swept over Kanto, it had become impossible, and he knew that by now it was simply biologically too late.

Inside Ben's house, they actually met the water-type. Both he and Misty seemed to have the same amount of interest in it, being a rare water-type and an evolution of eevee, but with the events of the shipwreck still fresh in their minds both parties tried to play it off like they were not paying attention to the vaporeon.

"Umbreon," Gary snapped his fingers at her when she hissed at the shorter pokemon. "Don't be a brat."

Umbreon seemed to have no interest in her counterpart. The vaporeon was shorter, wider, and his tail longer than hers. His fur was not like Umbreon's, but shorter and plastered to rubbery skin. His muzzle was stouter and his legs looked almost like makeshift fins. Though in an evolutionary sense they were compatible, Umbreon didn't seem to be aware of it, and shied away from even so much as a look from the other pokemon.

"Gunshot wound, huh?" Ben prepared a max potion at the counter. "I guess I shouldn't ask how that happened."

Gary lowered his breath and glared at Misty. "You'd be doing one of us a favor."

Ben didn't hear the reply, but if Misty did, she responded by looking off at the ceiling and gripping her backpack a little tighter.

"It doesn't look too bad," he commented, leaning down to where Umbreon was lying on her side. "Just a little infected and sore. Will she be alright if I apply it?"

"She's harmless," Gary responded. "Now don't make me look stupid, alright, girl?"

Umbreon protested only mildly throughout the procedure.

"She should be fine, given time," Ben commented, getting to his feet. "Any infection will only get better, at least. It wasn't too deep, just a nick. Where are you two headed now that you're here, anyway?"

"We know a few people in Petalburg City," Misty answered vaguely. "If we could get there, that'd be great."

"I could give you a lift as far as Oldale Town," Ben suggested, though Gary had no concept of where that place could be in relation to Slateport or Petalburg City. "It's just outside where you're headed, probably a day or two's walk."

"We're pretty used to walking," Gary added.

It was strange to sit in a car. He had spent the last few months of his life in a nearly constant state of walking, with the occasional air or water travel. The fact that he could simply relax – not walk, not operate under a false first name – was almost foreign. Though he knew that Galactic had some sort of idea of where they had been, how could they know if they had survived the shipwreck or not? With the gyarados and respective pokeball ditched, Gary felt that he could finally begin to let Team Galactic slip from the center focus of his mind, at least until they got to Petalburg City. There, they would have work to do.

He thought of May Maple for a fleeting second, and with a twisting sensation in his gut he decided better of it.

* * *

_So I'm not dead._

This was May Maple's realization as she found herself coming to on a none-too-shabby king size bed. The blankets were thick and soft, so much so that she felt like she was practically lost in them. She rolled over hesitantly to find that she felt only somewhat sick, and nothing physical about her hurt. The room itself was cream in color – cream walls, couches, beds. Any wood was the same dark tone throughout. There were candles decorating the counter tops. It was like a five-star hotel.

"Maybe I am dead," she whispered to herself, "and this is my room in heaven, or something."

"You're not dead."

The voice startled her. She threw the blankets aside and got to her feet, scanning the room for a face.

"Who are you?"

Her voice was accusing and harsh, but the man that appeared from around the corner looked harmless, but the most striking thing about him was his face.

"You," she narrowed her eyes, "you look a lot like somebody I know."

"You're in here because of my brother Brock, right?" He didn't smile. "Or, not really because of him, but because they're looking for him."

She didn't reply.

"It's okay," he urged her. He had the same hair and skin, but he sported a thick bunch of freckles. "They're listening, but they already know that you've been with him."

"How do you know that?"

"Because you're in here with me," he answered simply. He was peeling a banana with one hand and used the other to beckon her to follow him to the couch, where he sat. She remained across the room near the first bed.

"I mean, how do you know that they're listening?"

He didn't answer, but motioned with the banana towards the corner of the room. Nestled against the wall and ceiling was a miniscule black device – a camera. Further inspection led her to find that every corner of the room sported one, and each was nestled behind the leaves of a potted plant hung from the ceiling as some sort of disguise. They were so small she might never have noticed them without mention.

"There's ones in the bathroom, too," he added. "I wouldn't bother asking, they've already told me that they won't take them out."

The strangeness of the situation was beginning to dawn on May. She sat back down on the bed, suddenly feeling lightheaded. The last she could remember was that redheaded woman screaming and a feeling of terrible cold, and now she was in this luxurious room with one of Brock's brothers.

"What the hell," she murmured. The man smiled faintly, the first since he had appeared.

"Tell me about it," he returned. "How's my brother? I wouldn't give away any locations, though – they're listening."

"Can…can I ask the questions, for a second here?" She rubbed her temples. The man didn't give her permission or deny it – he simply waited for her to go on. "Where am I? What's even going on here? Are we prisoners, or – or what?"

"I don't know where we are," he began, too calmly for someone who had no idea where they were. "But I know that we aren't in Pewter City, and we are in Kanto. We are prisoners, really. If you ask them they'll say we're not, but we aren't free to leave. This is about as bad as it will get for us," he spread his arms out to show off the room, "so it could be worse."

"But we can't leave."

"Not even outside these rooms," he motioned to what, in any normal place, might have been a front door. "That door's locked from the outside."

May fell to one side onto the bed.

"So what do they want from us? What's the big idea here?"

"They want my brother," he began, "and the Cerulean and Viridian City Gym leaders. You know, that one who used to be Champion. Well, I'm sure you know. You were with them."

"You're saying a lot for someone who told me Galactic is listening."

"I told you – they already know who you are and who you were with."

She sighed heavily. God, she did not want to think, and especially not about any of this. She was beginning to regret her involvement.

"You know," she said, pulling the covers up under her chin. "The way Brock talks about you all, I pictured you a lot younger."

"I'm not surprised," he shrugged. "My brother thinks we're all still in diapers."

She giggled faintly.

"So why are you here, then?" She asked. "You're Brock's brother, yeah, but are they holding everybody's families like this, then?"

"I guess there's no way for me to be sure if they have anyone from the other gym leader's families," he admitted, "but as far as I know, they don't have any of my other siblings."

"Just you, huh?" She sat up. "And what makes you special?"

"No idea," he said. "I'm not even the youngest of the bunch."

"And why wouldn't they want the youngest?" May tapped her chin. "I mean, wouldn't the youngest kid of the family sort of upset Brock the most if he knew they were being held by Galactic?"

"I don't think Brock knows that I'm in here," he began, "and frankly, even if they had brought in the old family geodude they could have probably gotten a rise out of my brother's maternal instincts. But the youngest would make sense, in a manner of thinking. Too bad the twins are on probation."

That last thought made him smile wistfully again. Before May could comment further, there was a rap at the door, which quickly flew open without wait.

"Evening, Harrison," the woman had violet hair that was pulled back tight. She was in full uniform. She closed the door firmly behind herself, and though May flinched slightly at the sound of her loading her pistol, the man across the room didn't seem worried.

"Is it?" He commented lazily. It was then that May noticed that the room had no windows.

"Yes," she carried on, as if chatting with a neighbor, "but terrible weather. End of summer rain."

May couldn't take it anymore.

"Who are you?" She flew to her feet, spilling pillows across the floor. "Where am I? You'd better be here to explain what the hell -!"

She cut off quickly when the tight-lipped woman raised her pistol.

"I'm not here to cause you any grief," she warned sternly. "But the infirmary is only down one wing."

She bit her tongue, resisting the urge to stamp her foot.

"You're new," the woman observed, "and so for that, Maple, I'm going to cut you some slack. You have clothing in the dresser just over there. A deluxe bathroom has been provided for you. Your fridge is fully stocked, and anything you lack can and will be provided to you upon request. Is that understood?"

"I'd like to leave."

"There's the catch, I'm afraid," she smirked, putting away her pistol. "Salvador, you haven't had any trouble with our accommodations, have you?"

"Not a bit," he replied. The man was now nose-deep in a book, as if this woman was not wielding pistols at his new roommate.

"Your stay is only temporary," she went on. "So there's no need to get worked up about leaving. You will be leaving eventually, and that's sooner rather than later so long as you cooperate with us."

"And what do I have to do to leave?" She asked, trying to contain her frustration.

"Simple," she grinned just barely. "You give us any and all information you have on the whereabouts of Gary Oak, Misty Waterflower and Brock Harrison, as well as anyone they may be traveling with."

"And what if I don't?" She growled.

"Then I hope you like your accommodations," she smirked. "Because you will be here until we find them."

"You're not going to," she snapped, clenching her fists. "You're not going to find them until they want you to."

"Maple," the woman narrowed her eyes, "it would be, how should I put it…very_ unwise_ for them to want us to find them, at this point."

May felt her irritation rising. She turned her head sharply to glare at Salvador, who was still engaged in his book.

"Doesn't this bother you?" She cried. "They're looking for your brother!"

"I know," he lowered the book, and looked at her calmly. His voice had no inflection except for perhaps a hint of surprise – as if he was confused as to why May would ever be so concerned as to raise her voice. "They're going to find him."

"How can you say that?"

"Because when they get tired of playing hide-and-seek, they're going to tell my brother that they have me here," the man explained, turning his attention from her to the other woman near the door. "I haven't figured out quite how they're going to do that, but they will. They might try through my other brothers and sisters, but that's only if they don't believe me when I say that none of us know where he is. Once he's found that out, he's going to turn himself in."

"That would be stupid of him," May tried to protest, but Salvador was having none of it. He held his hand up dismissively.

"It doesn't matter what we think of it," he carried on. "That's what he's going to do."

"But they're not hurting you!" May continued. The violet-haired woman seemed to be getting real entertainment out of her argument, as she chuckled quietly and tapped her belt. "You're not hurting him, are you? Are you going to –"

"We aren't hurting any of you," she managed through calm laughs. "Perhaps maybe you should tell her, Harrison."

Salvador nodded. "But Brock won't know that."

May was speechless. She tried stammering out another sentence, but her mind blanked.

"Nothing to be afraid of," the woman chuckled. "You're safe here, so long as you hold tight in your rooms."

"How'd you know all of this?" She gritted her teeth. "How'd you know that your best bet of luring Brock here was his brother?"

"It's not hard to use family as leverage, Maple."

"But not everyone has that kind of tie with their family," she growled. "Some people – some people –"

"It wouldn't work for everyone, yes," she held out one hand onto the knob of the door. "But I take my work very seriously. I like to consider myself a talent at finding a person's weakness."

May watched her as she turned the knob and went to exit the room.

"You might want to hope that I should never have to find yours, Maple," she grinned just before departing, the first real grin that May had seen the woman procure. It split across darkly colored lips and stretched her face backwards. The door shut, and there were several clangs as the heavy locking system behind it secured.

"Now you've got her started," Salvador muttered, back to his book already.

"Who the hell was that?" May demanded. How could he be so cavalier about this? The man looked up at her over the brim of a page.

"Administrator Jupiter."


	20. Petalburg and Goldenrod

Alright, guys...this is the week. The last week I'll get to update until the second week of January. Does that mean you'll have to make due with one chapter for all that time? No, as I'll be posting ALL of those week's updates throughout the day...I can't exactly control this, but if it were me, I'd save them! I urge you to read them every Wednesday (or so...there's no shame in a little wiggle room) so that you don't have to wait weeks for the next update! But all in all, it is up to you, reader. So distribute them how you'd like - and updates will be ready for you when I get back!

**Disclaimer: I don't own Pokemon.**

* * *

Gary Oak was feeling nervous.

It was something that a few years ago he was not used to feeling. Many years ago, he had hardly ever heard of the term. Now he was growing more and more familiar with it – he had been nervous when he had sneaked through security to board a boat with a fake identity, and he had been nervous when he had rifled through a woman's purse to steal her passport – he had been nervous when Ash Ketchum had him hiding in a bathroom that wasn't his, frantically dialing for his older sister that he hadn't spoken to in God-knew-how-long.

Ash Ketchum. He pushed the name out of his mind. He had hardly found a moment to spare about him since his night with the woman on the ship – no, he wasn't going to admit that he had been thinking of him like that at all.

He found himself nervous again, and this time, it was because he was standing at the doorstep of a man whose daughter could be in the hands of Team Galactic or dead – and it was sort of on him as well, but in his opinion mostly almost_ entirely_ the fault of the woman standing next to him.

The man who appeared in the doorway had a receding salt-and-pepper hairline. He had suspicious dark eyes, but they were not altogether unwelcoming. Gary suspected that could soon change.

"Are you the gym leader here?" He began. Misty was silent. He held out his hand in case the man wanted to shake.

"Yes," he took his hand briefly. "May I ask what brings you here? And names, of course. Norman Maple."

"Gary," he introduced himself. It felt strange to admit who he really was. "Gary Oak."

"Misty Waterflower," the redhead next to him said quietly. He didn't look at her. They were still not speaking.

"I feel I might have heard your name somewhere before," Norman raised a finger to his chin and stared at him.

"Doesn't matter," he dismissed. He could not remember another time in his life when he had passed up the chance to gush about who he was – but truly, he was not interested. "We're...friends, of your daughter May."

That wasn't entirely true. Gary had been talking to May purely because she seemed easy, not only in the perverted sense, but in that he could easily keep her adoration flowing endlessly. Misty hadn't been able to stand her for more than a few moments at a time.

"Oh?" Norman began. "Well, she's not in the city at the moment, there's a rotation in –"

"We know," Misty interrupted gently. "That's uh, actually what we're here to talk about."

Gary could tell this man was beginning to grow apprehensive of them. He picked up the pace.

"We were on a ship with May," he threw himself right into the story, "on our way from Johto to Hoenn. She was going to get you to help us with a favor."

In retrospect, that sounded a bit harsh. Maybe he should have worded his last sentence differently, so that it didn't seem like they were in Petalburg to use him and that it had been his daughter's idea. Norman furrowed his brow, though did not looked shocked, as if his daughter often did this to him.

"But the ship wrecked out at sea," he continued. This piece of information got a reaction out of Norman. "And we don't know where May is. But we think that Team Galactic might know what happened to her – if you know of them – the ones who run Kanto now."

"Who the hell are you?" Norman began quietly, falling back behind the door frame like he were going to shut them out. "I don't know what kind of –"

"You have to –" but before Misty could finish, Gary cut her off.

"You don't _have_ to anything," he said simply. "Nothing at all. But if you think we're making it all up, then we're still going to have to go after your daughter. It's just doing to take a hell of a lot more time, and I have no idea what's going to happen to her in the meantime – if she's even alive."

He left the sentence on this somber note. It seemed to sink in with Norman Maple slowly.

"She could be dead in the ocean," Gary dropped bluntly once he grew tired of waiting for more of a response, "she could have been picked up by Galactic. She could have been rescued by them and is even walking free somewhere in Johto now. But there's no way for us to know that, and no way for _you_ to know that, if you don't go where we can't and find out."

There was a moment of silence. The older man looked between them harshly, and then settled on staring at him with intense eyes.

"There was an article," Norman began lowly, "in the paper a few days ago, covering a story about a shipwreck off the coast of Slateport. That's what you're talking about? Is that the ship you were on?"

"Yes," they said unanimously.

"Where do you expect me to go?" He narrowed his eyes at them. Gary wasn't sure that he entirely believed their story, and he couldn't blame them. "Isn't Galactic supposed to be the government of Kanto nowadays? Why are you talking about them like they're something I should be worried about?"

"We can explain that too," Gary offered, "but we're going to need to go inside."

Norman Maple hesitantly offered them the inside of his home. Around the dining table, Gary did his best to relay every honest bit of their journey – minus a few details that Norman did not need to know about – and how May had ever gotten involved. It felt strange to tell someone not approved by both Ash and himself the honest truth.

"And May was on her way here with you to convince me to help you?" He ran a hand through sparse remaining hair. "She's asked me to help her with things before, but this – this is a…a government, we're talking about."

"Not a pleasant one, either," Gary added, mostly to himself.

"Well," Norman said grimly, "I can't make any promises to you about your story. But I can say that I'm not going to sit here and wonder if my daughter is alive or not."

He got to his feet.

"I'm going to contact a few friends of mine," he started, heading across the room, "and we're going to contact the news stations that covered the story and get the information we need to find out where May is."

Gary and Misty both nodded. They rose along with him to leave the house.

"You two will stay in the city while I'm gone?" He offered. Gary nodded.

"We'll be here."

Norman Maple left, but not before announcing his intentions to his city. In the time waiting for the gym leader's return, Gary knew that they could organize precious networking, even if that meant sharing their stories that they tried so hard to forget.

But they were not the only ones at work.

* * *

At their stop in the National Park just before Goldenrod City, Brock Harrison had picked up a paper.

This was not anything out of the ordinary for Ash. The older man had picked up papers in nearly every city they had stopped at in their old days of travel. He was somehow never interested in the news – what could be happening on a sheet of paper that he would possibly need to know about? As of late he was finding his own life far more interesting than some car crash or robbery that a reporter had embellished. Plus, Ash Ketchum was not much of a reader. Even with years of solitude on Mt. Silver under his belt, he hadn't developed the hobby of reading anything. He just didn't have the patience for it.

But this was a paper that he might have liked to pick up. And since he had no way of knowing that, when Brock Harrison buried his nose into it, he stopped dead in his tracks as they walked down the dirt path and halted the entire group.

"Everybody," he began calmly. It was the kind of tone that preceded bad news, but warned you against panicking too quickly. "Can you come take a look at this?"

And so he, Ritchie, Brenda and Forrest bundled around the back of Brock in a clump, peering over his shoulders and around his arms to get a closer look.

_Shipwreck Off the Coast! Team Galactic Saves the Day!_

The title was enough to make any questions Ash might have been about to ask catch in his throat. As he read on, the article described the destination of the ship, the departure port, and the course it had been on – all identical to the very ship he was now thinking of. The very ship that had held his friend, ex-fiance and ex-rival.

"We can't really know if that's the right ship," Brock began quietly, but though none of his companions had moved Ash suddenly took off racing down the path, swiping up Pikachu as he went. From his belt he unclipped a single pokeball and unleashed its contents, sending a noctowl swooping into the air.

"Ash!" Brock and Ritchie called in unison.

He didn't answer. Instead he grabbed onto the feathery back of the flying-type and lowered himself against her feathers as she ascended into the sky.

"Ash!" Ritchie called again, running down the path after him. "What are you doing?"

"You're being irrational!" Brock shouted after him. "Just come down here a second –"

"I'm going to Goldenrod!" He shouted back at them, urging Noctowl faster. "You'll meet me there!"

He ignored the group as they attempted to flag him down, desperately calling him back to the ground. Images of a redheaded woman stomping away from him towards his cabin home, a flirty brunette winking in his direction, and a taller man pressing his wrists into the grass crossed his mind. He saw their names in the paper – the obituaries.

_No._

When Ash touched down in Goldenrod, he pocketed his noctowl and set Pikachu on the concrete, who shivered briefly and looked up at him, as if to ask what the hell he was up to. Normally he would have returned a look like that with a smile, or something reassuring, but his thoughts were clouded with the idea that Gary, May and Misty could be in danger, or worse.

"Come on," he ushered his electric-type to follow him. "We're going to make a little stop, buddy."

He headed straight for Goldenrod City Gym without a single stop. The hotels and restaurants he passed failed to even so much as tempt him, but twice he had to scoop Pikachu into his arms as they passed a can of trash to keep his nose out of it.

"Haven't I taught you better than that?" He chastised quietly as the little creature squeaked. "Some things are just instinct, I guess."

When he entered the building, he was greeted by a small white-tiled room. It held a few padded benches and one desk, where a young woman sat behind. Several people were twiddling their thumbs on the benches, looking bored.

"Excuse me," he began, heading straight up to the desk.

"May I help you?"

The woman didn't look like she could be much older than he. She greeted him with a warm smile, but he couldn't find the heart to return it.

"I need to speak with Whitney," he started, taking care to remember the things Ritchie had mentioned about her. He repeated a few in his mind.

_Anti-Galactic. She led protests. She'll _want_ to help._

The woman nodded and typed up something quickly on her computer. Then with a slight tut, as if scolding herself, she carried on.

"I'm sorry," she began, "I nearly forgot. I'll need to see some I.D."

_Well, shit._

"I don't have it on me at the moment," he explained, and before she could open her mouth he hurried on, "I don't have an appointment either. You won't find me in your system."

"Sir," the receptionist was looking less pleased now. "I cannot permit you past this point without identification. Leader Whitney does not take walk-ins. If you're looking to challenge her, there are several people ahead of you regardless –"

"I'm not here to battle her," he interrupted, "this is strictly…business. She needs to know about it. It's about a cause that I've heard she feels pretty strongly about."

"Sir," the woman was now staring over the tops of her glasses, looking entirely not amused. "If you'd like to speak with Leader Whitney personally, I recommend dropping by her house after hours, though I am not permitted to give out her personal information and so you will have to locate her address on your own time. Now could you please remove your pokemon from the counter?"

Ash shooed Pikachu from the desk with a slight spark.

"Please," he put his hands on the desk and leaned closer. "You have to help me."

"Sir, if you aren't willing to share the problem with me I don't see how I could be of any assistance to you."

Behind him, those waiting on their opportunity to challenge Leader Whitney were staring. One man stood up.

"Dude," he crossed his arms, "you can wait your turn just like every other Joe."

"I'm not here to battle Whitney, okay?" Ash looked over his shoulder quickly. "I need to know about the boat that crashed off the coast near here – the one from Johto, in the news? I need to know if there were any survivors."

The room fell eerily silent. The expressions of everyone had changed, and Ash realized that his voice had shaken slightly.

"That is," the receptionist began, now appearing sympathetic, "an entirely different matter, sir. Here."

She scribbled something onto a piece of paper, and then pushed it across the desk toward him.

"Visit that address," she instructed quietly, "they'll have everything you're looking for."

He glanced at it, then back at the woman. His first thought was that he still needed to get to Leader Whitney – and his second was that he didn't give a damn about when or how he did that until he knew that Misty, May and Gary were safe.

"Thank you," he replied, stuffing it into his jeans and heading for the door.

"I hope whoever you're looking for is alright, sir," the woman called after him, but he hardly heard her finish as the door closed behind him. He repeated the address over and over in his head and asked several different civilians for directions before he happened upon the place. The outside of the building was simple concrete, nothing out of the ordinary about it at all. So when he opened the door and found the place swarming with Galactics in uniform, he could hardly breathe. It was like his tongue was caught in his throat as he watched grunts busybody about the room. Some were carrying papers. Others weren't carrying anything. Half of them sat at desks, like they were secretaries. He leaned down and picked Pikachu up with one hand, and tugged the back of his shirt upward with the other, suddenly conscious of the marks in his upper back.

"May I help you?"

Someone was talking to him, but he couldn't process the voice. He shook his head, muttered something about being in the wrong place, and turned and headed right back out the door. For a moment he stood outside, simply taking in air as people bustled by him. He set Pikachu back down and removed his hat with one hand, running the other through his hair.

He had friends on the way to this very city, one of whom was wanted by Galactic for a ten grand reward. He had three missing, two of whom were also wanted, and they could be dead or hurt or taken hostage by Team Galactic. And there was only one of him here, and he had to get to Leader Whitney and find out if he could what had happened to May, Misty and Gary or he could head back the way he had come and warn Brock that he could not possibly enter Goldenrod City, that he had to turn around or change course or anything at all.

_What the hell am I going to do?_

* * *

Ash Ketchum's stomach was churning. Three knocks faded into the air and he stuffed his hand back inside his pocket, Pikachu at his feet. He was standing in front of a modest house that looked like any other – he had only been able to distinguish it by reading the name on the mailbox – and it had taken him all day to find. He imagined that Brock and the rest of them were increasing their pace now that they thought he was losing his mind in Goldenrod City. He took a breath at the thought.

He could only hope that he would be done here before they arrived. He had chosen to stay in Goldenrod and search for Whitney after hours, and he had to stand by it and hope Brock wouldn't pay for his choice.

"Hello?"

The woman who answered the door was wearing sweatpants and a loose fitting tee shirt. She had short pig-tailed hair and looked confused to have a stranger knocking at her door, though he imagined as a gym leader this would happen more often than if she were just any civilian.

"I'm sorry," she blinked, "who are you?"

"Ash Ketchum," he introduced. He held out his hand briefly for her to shake, which she did with some hesitance. "You don't know me, but…I'm looking for information about the ship that crashed off the coast here. About survivors."

"As much as I'd like to be of help," she bit her lip, looking truly sympathetic, "I'm not in possession of that information. There's a building just down the –"

"I know," he interrupted her, "but I can't go there."

"And why's that?" She narrowed her eyes, looking like she did not much appreciate the interruption.

"I'm…anti-Galactic."

He figured that it was best to leave it at that for now.

"Hm," her irritated look faded only slightly, and she even offered him a slight smile, "is that so? You can't make an exception for the well-being of whomever you're searching for?"

"No," he admitted, "it would hurt them more than it would help if I did. If you'll let me show you something, it might help you understand."

She paused, looking suspicious. Hesitantly, she agreed. "Alright. But don't try anything funny. My miltanks might be out back, but my clefable sleeps indoors and she is very suspicious of strangers."

Ash stepped inside. As promised, the clefable was half-covered in blankets on a love seat in a very human-like manner. The gold carpet beneath his shoes was littered with stains, most of which he noted were in the distinct shape of hooves.

"So?" Whitney crossed her arms. "What do you – hey, I said no funny business!"

Ash had turned around and pulled his shirt over his head. After her initial outburst, the leader caught sight of the scars at the base of his neck and place a hand over her mouth. But unlike his company back at Mt. Silver, Whitney did not seemed nearly as floored. In fact, she looked excited.

"Ash Ketchum," she began slowly, speaking as if he had just presented her with a winning lottery ticket. He moved to turn around, but suddenly she was directly behind him, placing her hands on his shoulders and then tracing the outlines of his scars with a finger. "It's like Arceus sent you here himself."

Ash was quite certain that he had no idea what was going on. He had expected this to be an interesting shock, but Goldenrod City's gym leader was clearly experiencing this on a different level.

"I can get you the lists from the ship," she spun him around. He might have felt a little exposed having his shirt still gripped in his hand, but the pink-haired woman wasn't paying his bare torso any mind. In fact, he was more uncomfortable with the impassioned stare she was giving his eyes. "But you have to do something for me."

"What?"

"I've been waiting years for concrete evidence against Team Galactic," she gripped his shoulders again, "and here, you just happened to show up at my door. I need you to come with me to the Johto League."

"What?" His eyes widened. "Wait –"

"So I can show them this!" She carried on. "Show them_ you_! And they'll see what Team Galactic is capable of!"

"You want me to come with you to the League?" He repeated as if he had never heard such an idea in his life. "To make…a case against Team Galactic?"

"Yes," she nodded emphatically, "please."

"Are you kidding me?" He started to laugh at the absurdity of the situation. "I've been – I mean – of course I'll go!"

Whitney beamed and dashed a few feet away. Ash was half-convinced that he was currently existing in some sort of dreamland – a place where gym leaders wanted him to accompany them to the most powerful set of trainers in the nation, to make a case against the people who had turned his homeland into a shell of what it once was. How _could_ it be real?

"Come on," she urged him deeper into the house, "we'll get ready immediately."

"Wait," he held out his hand before slipping his shirt back over his head, "I have friends on their way to this city. They don't know that Galactic has a set-up here and they'll be in a lot of danger if they're found."

"And they're anti-Galactic, I take it?" She proposed.

"Yes," he confirmed. "They traveled here with me. I went ahead to find out more about the ship."

"Very well," she waved her hand as if it wasn't a problem at all, "on our way to the League we'll stop them and give them instructions. I know what to do with them. You'll just have to trust me, alright?"

He nodded. He had only just met this woman, and yet she made it easy to trust her. She had an obviously genuine disdain for Galactic, and that put her on his good side right away.

"We'll leave in the morning," she carried on, heading past him and opening the door.

"Hey!" He called, "wait, where are you going?"

"To get you those lists," she answered simply, looking over her shoulder. "You stay here."

He didn't argue. For half an hour, Ash Ketchum sat in t,he living room of a strange gym leader and tried to keep his pikachu from sparking at the sleeping clefable. The last thing that he needed was the normal-type waking up to find her trainer gone and a total stranger sitting in her house. Upon Whitney's return, she tossed a binder onto the coffee table in front of the couch and crossed her arms.

"That's the report. Everything that we have on the wreck."

Ash dug right in. He skipped the majority of the information inside in favor of the list of accounted for survivors. He flipped the pages – of which there were not many – back and forth before he came to a certain conclusion.

"They're not on here," he mumbled to himself. Unconvinced, he grabbed the list of identified dead and scoured that with less enthusiasm.

"They're not here either," he let his arms drop to his sides. Pikachu skittered from the couch to the table and sniffed the documents as if to confirm for himself that there was no trace of their friends.

"They must be missing then?" Whitney offered with a sympathetic frown.

Still, Ash did not feel that they were dead. With all his heart he believed all three of them to be alive. "Or they…" he decided to keep the use of fake names a secret on second thought. After all, he wanted his trust of Whitney to be a two-way street, and putting out there that the possibility that his friends were pretending to be other people did cast a rather shady appearance over him. "Yeah. Must be."

"Or in the hands of Galactic," she countered. "I don't know what Galactic wanted so badly from that ship that they sunk it, but maybe they took a few – how should I say it? – hostages."

"Galactic sunk that ship?" His breath caught. "On purpose?"

"Well, I don't have any proof," she shrugged, "yet. It's just a theory. But don't you think that it's strange that the Kanto government just happened to be in international waters between Johto and Hoenn exactly when that ship went down? What were they doing over there anyway? They had rescue boats and the works. It's almost like they knew that ship was going to go down before it did."

Ash was silent. It certainly made sense to him when she put it that way. And unlike Whitney, he could think of two reasons that Galactic would want to sink that ship – Gary Oak and Misty Waterflower.

He tried to maintain his calm as he imagined the two of them captured by Team Galactic as he had been years ago.

"I just find it strange. Then again, maybe it was fate, and I'm suspecting innocent good Samaritans of a horrible thing," she headed down the hall, "or maybe you showing up at my door was fate – and Team Galactic is guilty."


	21. Backfire

Sorry this chapter took longer to post (even though it's technically next week's update!) I've been having internet issues. The others will be up soon!

**Disclaimer: I don't own Pokemon.**

* * *

It had been a week and a half since Norman Maple had left Petalburg City in search of the whereabouts of his daughter. Since that time, Gary had been surprised to find that the city's populous had grown rather fond of he and Misty Waterflower. He had shared his story with one or two folks at first, and within hours it seemed like the entire city had heard. He might have minded – but now that the whole town knew about him, he was a bit of a local celebrity, and he liked it more than he would admit. It was like somehow within that short period of time they had managed to convert nearly an entire city to their cause, and Gary was falling quite readily into the position of charismatic public leader.

"I can't imagine what you've been through," a rather pretty brunette sighed from across the table, "you and Leader Misty are truly an inspiration to Petalburg."

He offered his most winning smile and took another swig of coffee. It was not the first time that a citizen – or in this case multiple, with a brunette and several blondes sitting across from him – had offered to take him to lunch or for drinks in exchange for more gallivant tales, though it was a notion much more popular among the women of Petalburg City. However at the moment Gary was looking past the women, whose names had blurred in the list of countless faces he had met over the past week or so, and he was noticing the crowd growing outside the window. Lowering his mug slowly from his lips, he stared intently past his lunch dates.

"What's wrong?" One blonde asked. He got to his feet and headed for the door, calling back a few apologies as he went.

Outside, the commotion grew. Yet it was not an alarming or dangerous calamity – in fact, people seemed to be rejoicing. He wracked his brain for some late summer holiday that he might have forgotten, but came up empty. Instead he followed the direction of the crowd until he found himself in the middle of it. When he spotted the cause of the hoopla, he made a beeline for it.

"May," he seized her roughly by the back of the shoulders and spun her around. They both broke into genuine smiles upon eye contact. "You're alive."

She looked just fine to him. Her clothing was a bit modest for what she usually wore, and both the shirt and pants looked to be a few sizes too big, so he doubted that these articles actually belonged to her. But as for her health, she seemed to be doing well, perhaps even better than the last time he had seen her. She certainly didn't look like someone who had been held by a criminal organization, so he wondered if that had been the case at all.

"You know it!" She giggled, diving at his chest in a hug. "Glad to be back in one piece, too."

"Where were you?"

"Galactic," she shrugged a bit, looking apprehensive to continue. Then she winked in a characteristic May fashion. "I'll tell you all about it _later..._okay?"

"We have a lot to talk about," he chuckled, ignoring in his relief to see her alive the blatant pass she had made at him. He noticed a patch of bright orange hair making its way through the crowd, and when he felt someone tug on his sleeve he decided to leave May and Misty to their potentially awkward greeting and follow.

"Thank you," it was Norman who had him by the sleeve, "for telling me everything that you did."

The man was extending a hand. He took it in a firm shake through the throngs of people around them as the pair of women behind him were swept further away.

"We had to," he was grinning genuinely, "thank you for listening to us. We're just glad that May's back safely."

The raucous crowd and happy cheers – it was almost like a scene from a movie to Gary.

"Come on," Norman ushered him with a hand, "take a walk with me."

Gary didn't hesitate for a moment. He had so many questions for both May and her father and in the crowd he would have to fight to be heard. They walked until they found themselves down a quieter street, free from the distractions and noise that the rest of the city was partaking in. Norman did something that surprised him then – he pulled him into an embrace, the type meant for long lost friends or brothers.

"Norman," he chuckled uncomfortably, "it was really not a problem. You didn't think we were going to just let her go missing, did you?"

The man did not reply.

"Norman?"

It was around that time that Gary realized that Norman Maple had not been smiling when he had pulled Gary into this embrace, nor in the crowd, and was likely not smiling now. He felt the emptiness of the street like a gaping hole – it was not just quiet, it was abandoned. Everyone in town was located in the center, besides he and Norman Maple.

"What is it?" He struggled slightly, trying politely to free himself from the embrace. Norman ignored this obvious hint.

"I'm sorry."

With that quiet whisper, the hair on the back of Gary's neck rose.

_Something's wrong here._

"Norman," he began more firmly, "let go."

But no matter how hard he protested Norman met him in it to keep him held there against him. He did not respond verbally or seem to notice physically. Gary began to feel increasingly urgent.

"Get the hell off of me!"

He went so far as to bite into the man's shoulder. This startled him enough that he loosened his hold and Gary thrust his arms out and shoved him back, putting a few feet's distance between them and looking at the gym leader with perverse fear.

"I'm so sorry," Norman repeated, and that was when he heard it - a rush of air, not powerful and loud like that of a gun being fired, but soft and unassuming. Something pinched him hard in the thigh and he cried out, turning his attention from Norman to wrench it out by instinct. He brought the object up to his face.

A tranquilizer dart.

"Miss me, sweetheart?"

Behind him a woman was giggling. It started off slowly but rose to a maddened crescendo like she could hardly contain herself. He didn't have to look to know who it was. He stared with wide eyes at Norman Maple, who had turned his back to him and refused look back.

"What are you doing here?" He breathed, turning around slowly. His breathing felt deeper than usual. He suddenly felt like a rattata running a maze in a lab – like he could travel the world and never outrun Galactic. Like he could make any turn he would like, and they would always be above him, watching him, aware of his next move as he made it. "Why can't you just leave me?"

"Because you'd never just leave us, now would you?" Administrator Mars purred. She was in her classic Galactic uniform, with that stupid skirt modification that was making Gary's blood boil, and her goddamn perfectly manicured lips. "You have stirred up quite a mess for us, and now it's time for me to clean it up."

He lowered himself to one knee. Everything was growing calmer. His fear and anxiety was fading.

"If the Hoenn League finds you," he began, aware that his voice sounded breathier than usual, "they'll –"

"We'll be gone within the next ten minutes," she tapped her wrist for emphasis. "Now hurry up and close your eyes, won't you?"

"Umbreon," he muttered, feeling naked without her nearby, thinking of how she was still at the house and wondering if Galactic would find her there. Yet his senses were dimming and he could not bring himself to panic about her potential fate even as he felt he that he should.

"There's a good boy," Mars was positively beaming. As he struggled to his hands and knees, eventually falling to his side, he kept his eyes locked on hers until they fluttered shut.

* * *

"What are you doing here, Whitney?"

Ash was trying not to completely lose his composure, partly because he didn't want to look like a basket case in front of possibly the most influential ally he could hope to make and partly because he didn't want Pikachu to pick up on it and get moody in front of the Champion of Johto.

It had taken roughly a week and a half to reach the League. Leader Whitney very hospitably had offered her home as refuge for Brock, Brenda, Forrest and Ritchie until their return with aid, which they had promised they would be back with. Ash felt confident even through his nerves that they would make good on that promise, now that he was standing before the most powerful trainer in a nation. Karen had almost entirely grayed hair that hung down to her lower back, and though she also sported the wrinkles of age in addition she did not seem built for it or to be aware of it. A cut-off yellow top revealed a flat and toned abdomen – though layered with creased and aging skin that Ash preferred to ignore – and a pair of similarly colored heels. He eyes however, were an intense hazel that belied the power she possessed.

"I have something that I wanted to bring to your attention," Whitney, who over the past week or so had revealed herself to have an attitude that was far from plain, sounded surprisingly meek when addressing the Champion of Johto.

"Does it have anything to do with the stranger in my hall?"

The Champion looked at him with a slight smile. He swallowed, reminding himself that she was like any other trainer, though with the addition of being beyond extraordinary with dark-types. The young Umbreon at her side was eyeing him creepily and not making matters any easier for him. So he tried to imagine Gary Oak sitting in a luxurious Champion hall and atop an extravagant chair akin to a throne. With the woman's umbreon available to easily complete the picture, he felt a little more at ease. Your average, every day trainer could become Champion – they all started out that way. Or the boy next door, who pushed you in the stream when you called him Blue.

"Yes," Whitney spoke again, "I think you'll find this worth your time, Champion. Ash?"

He placed his backpack on the ground beside Pikachu, and then began to lift his shirt.

_You won't feel nervous if you keep thinking of –_

On second thought, he decided that the image of Gary sitting atop a throne was not one that would be wise to keep in his head while he undressed himself.

Free of his shirt, he turned around. He could hear Karen rise to her feet, and the sound of her heels against marble as she approached him slowly. The soft tapping of nails signaled that her umbreon was accompanying her.

There was a long silence. Uncomfortably long. Whitney beside him was breathing as if she had run a small marathon in the time that it took Johto's Champion to reach them. He kept catching his breath, waiting for Karen to run her fingers across the scars like the gym leader beside him had, but she never did.

"What is this?"

The tone was not one that Ash had expected. It sounded harsh and unhappy. He turned to face her, assuming she was very much done with what she had seen, and her expression was one of a person's newly exposed to the smell of wild muk.

"This is proof," Whitney gestured to him with her palm, looking as confused as he felt, "you asked me –"

"I asked you to stop bothering me with this petty nonsense, Whitney!" Karen commanded. The umbreon next to her hissed.

"You told me to bring you proof!" Whitney burst, then like she had remembered who she was speaking to, she lowered her voice, "and here it is. Proof that Team Galactic is criminal. This is cruel and unusual punishment, Champion – _'Property of Team Galactic'?_ You can't keep humans as -!"

"Silence, Whitney," she hissed. The message the other woman had tried to convey seemed to have gone completely over her head. "I won't hear any more of this."

"Please," Ash decided he needed to intervene if he could. "They're ruining people's lives in Kanto. They already have, and have been for years. We need help – your help, as the Champion."

Somewhere in his chest Ash was convinced that Champion Karen would help, if he could convince her that the argument was worth her time. If he could just explain what he had endured, and what his friends had…

"If you hear me out, you'll see. My friends –"

But Karen held up her hand.

"I'm sure your story is rather moving," she practically growled, "but I do believe that I have already said,_ enough._"

Whitney looked flabbergasted. To Ash, the entire situation seemed unreal – never had he imagined that if he ever managed to get to this point, their best shot at help would shoot them down. Never had he pictured in his mind that the Champion of Johto would tell them to go home without so much as hearing an opening speech.

"I'm going to have to ask you to leave," Karen had her arms crossed, glaring at Whitney. The other woman stared for a moment in shock and then turned her back.

"Come on, Ash," she beckoned quietly, "she won't help."

"I'm afraid your friend won't be going anywhere, actually."

Ash's blood ran cold. At his feet, Pikachu sparked, sensing the growing tension.

"Those marks you bear," she continued coolly, "they're the marks of someone imprisoned by Team Galactic, yes? To earn something like that, I imagine it was quiet the heinous crime."

"I _am_ leaving, actually," he shot back, losing the formalities. Apprehension was pricking at his spine. He had to get out of here.

"No, dear," she snapped her fingers, "you are not."

The Umbreon at her side leaped at him, startling him into inaction. But Pikachu reacted immediately, discharging static that sent the dark-type's fur standing on him and directing his attention towards the smaller pokemon instead of his trainer. He reached for his belt instantly as Karen let another pokemon loose from its ball.

"Stop!" Whitney demanded, clutching a pokeball in her own hand but reluctant to throw it. Karen's large canine crashed from his pokeball and let out a reverberating bark before it charged for Pikachu, who took off dashing across the marble floor with the umbreon and houndoom hot on his heels. Ash's feraligatr materialized on the scene and immediately fired a hydro pump, knocking the canine off his trail and sending it screaming and whimpering into the opposing wall, where his fur sizzled.

Whitney's miltank, finally called from her ball, dragged a heavy hoof across the marble and snorted irritably before Pikachu caught on and darted beneath her large frame. The umbreon tried to follow suit, but Miltank swept at it with her horns, which he dodged, heading another way. The houndoom was up and snarling again, but was engaged in a stand-off with Feraligatr that he did not seem to want to escalate.

"Careful, Pikachu!" He called out as Miltank stamped her hooves with him weaving between them. Meanwhile the umbreon had gone around the back, and was now swiftly lunging between Miltank's back hooves to reach at the electric-type.

"Alright, Gengar," he heard Karen begin smugly, "you know where to go."

The ghost-type, who he had hardly noticed being called out, stood on the floor with a pudgy body that looked nearly transparent, and blurred at the edges like a specter. Its purple glow split into a toothy lopsided grin and it cackled like nails against a chalkboard before it vanished into the air.

"Champion!" Whitney was calling. Pikachu let out a spark at the umbreon, which tickled against the belly of Miltank causing her to bellow and kick out her hooves. Pikachu squeaked and fled from underneath the bovine. "Call off your pokemon, we can discuss this rationally!"

"There's not a rational bone in your body, Whitney," Karen called over the sounds of pokemon, "you're a radical, and you always will be."

At that moment the umbreon caught Pikachu's tail in his teeth, and the rodent exploded in a burst of electricity. Before either trainer could react, the door at the end of the hall burst open and a painted bird came flying in, eyes eerily unblinking. The xatu swept down with ferocious speed and plucked Pikachu off the ground while a toxicroak followed after on the ground, leaving wet marks where it stepped its damp feet, spitting poison at Whitney's miltank.

"Stop!" Ash cried, watching Pikachu struggle in the talons of the bird, building up a charge from his last burst. He reached for his belt.

"If you want this to stop," someone called from the end of the hall, "you won't call out that next pokemon."

"Then you'll let us leave!" Whitney cried back, throwing out her clefable despite the warning.

"You're free to go, Leader Whitney," Karen growled, "in fact, you've been dismissed."

Suddenly the hall seemed to flood with pokemon. An absol appeared and joined the umbreon's new plot in harassing Miltank, biting at her heels whenever possible. A crobat began an aerial assault on Feraligatr, allowing the houndoom to extract revenge in the form of several bites. When Ash turned his back for a moment to call out a command to Feraligatr, he found something had sneaked up on him by smell alone, and when he looked back the huge mass of a muk was towering over him.

"Do it!" A voice called out. "Subdue him, Muk!"

"Drop the pikachu, Xatu! As high as you can!" Another voice called. Ash stumbled backwards and tripped over the umbreon dashing purposefully behind him, falling back as the muk approached.

"No!" He cried.

"Cut the miltank's throat, Absol!" Karen shouted.

_"No!"_ He repeated much more urgently. "I'll stay, whatever you want! Don't hurt them! Stop!"

The struggle in the room stopped. The two trainers who had appeared at the end of the hall – one of which Ash recognized as Koga, former Fuchsia City Gym leader – had held up their hands to halt their pokemon. Karen was staring at him.

"Recall your pokemon, Whitney."

"But –"

"Just recall them, Whitney," Ash backed the order, and hesitantly Whitney obeyed. Ash felt slightly better that her pokemon were no longer in danger, but no less worried about the situation. "Get that thing to put down my pikachu."

"Will," Karen said, and the bright-haired man ordered his bird soundlessly to lower to the ground. Pikachu gave off a static shock that jolted physically through the xatu before scurrying away, stopping a few feet after to watch it intently.

"Recall your pokemon, now."

He returned Feraligatr and stayed frozen on the ground, watching the muk which was still eyeing him a bit too carefully for his liking.

"The pikachu, as well."

"He doesn't have a pokeball," Ash explained coldly. "Wherever I go, he goes."

"I don't think that will be true for very long," Karen began, her umbreon rejoining her at her hip. "Seeing as I will be handing you over for Team Galactic to deal with."

"I…" he let his eyes flicker from the muk to Pikachu. His blood boiled, but he didn't see a way out of the situation. "Fine. I want to ask you one favor, Karen."

"And what is that?"

"Let my pikachu go with Whitney, and you're free to take me wherever you want."

The pokemon at his belt were another story. As much as he worried that their safety could be jeopardized, he was certain that if he could hold onto them he might be able to find a way out of their situation with their help before they were completely imprisoned.

"I believe I'm free to take you wherever I want under any circumstances," she retorted, but crossed her arms. "But very well. Order your pokemon to follow after her."

"Pikachu," he called hesitantly. The electric-type's ears perked up and he sent one last little glare at the xatu before he dashed over to where Ash sat, hurrying up between his legs to settle onto his lap. His sides were heaving, and he had a bloody bite mark. Ash hoped that it was only superficial. "You're going to go with Whitney, okay?"

His starter did not seem to recognize this command. Instead, Ash picked him up and got slowly to his feet, as to not incite his attackers to continue. He held him out to Whitney, who took him carefully in her arms. Pikachu squirmed, which increased as Whitney broke her worried stare and headed for the door.

"Behave," he called after him. He turned back towards Karen and tried to ignore the heavy feeling in his chest, only made worse by Pikachu's confused squeaks.

"Now," she cleared her throat, "are you going to come quietly?"

A sudden chorus of cries broke their attention again. Ash whipped his head around to find Pikachu suddenly at his chest and clawing up his shirt to his shoulder, causing the hairs on his head to rise slightly with the faint discharge he was still giving off. Behind them, Whitney, Koga, and Will were all on the marble floor, panting and rising to their feet slowly.

"I thought I told you to behave," he said quietly, swallowing a lump in his throat.

"It seems you were right," Karen, to his surprise, didn't look irritated. In fact her eyes, if he hadn't known better, looked to be watering. "Where you go, he goes."

He clutched Pikachu to his chest, where the rodent was nesting into his shirt quite frantically. When he received a slight shock as he jumped mostly in surprise – by this point he had been shocked by his starter so many times that he hardly noticed small jolts anymore.

"For that, I'm truly sorry," she finished. "A faithful pokemon should never be asked to pay for their trainer's crimes."

He could do nothing but hug Pikachu to his chest and await the inevitable.

* * *

Gary came around slowly. He first noticed the cool metal pressing against his cheek before he even bothered to open his eyes. When he tried, his eyelids were slow to respond, and his vision hazy. All he could make out were gray shapes and much too bright of a light. Cringing, he closed them again. The feeling of calm was the first effect to begin to wear off, and he groaned quietly as he began to struggle, finding his hands secured at his sides and several thick straps pressing him forcefully against wherever he found himself lying.

"Subject coming around," the voice sounded older and distinctly male. The way the words were hardly audible lead Gary to assume that the man was talking to himself. "Early, but no matter."

Gary tried shifting again, but he succeeded in nothing more than kicking one foot off the table. Table – yes, that's what he was strapped to. His mind was catching up now. He tried to speak, but alarmingly found that something was stuffed into his mouth.

"If Jupiter were here, she'd tell me to put the subject under again," the man was chuckling softly now, "but Jupiter isn't here, is she?"

The shuffle of feet brought the man closer. He flinched when he felt gloved hands on his bare back and realized that he was shirtless. Fear began to creep up his spine almost in time with his captor's fingers. But it was not the only response – anger, at how he was gagged and restrained, and how this man knew that he was awake now and still refused to acknowledge him like a fellow human being.

Then Gary heard the door burst open, so violently that it hit the opposing wall with a metallic clang.

"Charon!" This was a female voice. He was familiar with it, but he could not crane his neck at all to see. "Emergency, code yellow."

"Not the -?"

"No!" The voice cut him off sternly. "And don't talk about that while he's in here!"

"He's only half-conscious. I doubt he even realizes where he is."

"Get going," she demanded, and Gary could hear footsteps exiting the room. "I'll take care of that conscious half for you."

He could hear steps, these ones lighter, as the woman gathered things from around the room. His apprehension grew and he was caught between feigning unconsciousness or outwardly struggling. He felt the unexplainable sensation of knowing that someone is far too close to you for your liking even though you cannot see them to be sure of it, and the low whisper in his ear confirmed it.

"Be a good boy while the doctor's gone, sweetheart."

Something long and sharp pierced his skin roughly in the arm and he let out a cry muffled by the gag. Gary drifted into another state of unconsciousness as the sound of giggles disappeared from the room.


	22. Locked Up

**Disclaimer: I don't own Pokemon.**

* * *

"Be careful with him!"

Gary woke to the sound of Ash Ketchum's voice.

It brought him around with a jolt, just as he was dumped off a stretcher onto a stone floor. He staggered to his feet as quickly as he could manage, unsteady but apparently unharmed. Behind him there was the sound of heavy locks clicking into place, and as he looked around he realized he was in a cell. It was bare of all accommodations save for a toilet and a bench attached to the wall. Each wall itself was solid, uninterrupted concrete except for the door, which was punctuated with bars. He rushed to the door and leaned into the bars as much as he could to get the best view possible of what might lie outside.

Ash's voice had died down. The guards – or whoever had thrown him inside his cell – were now gone. The hall he was staring down, housing cell after cell until the end, was vacant.

"Hello?" He called out. The effects of anesthesia were wearing off much faster this time. He wasn't sure whether to accredit it to getting another dose so soon or the startling conditions that had woken him up. "Ash?"

"Gary?" Ash's face appeared in the door not from the cell across from his, but to the right of it. He looked haggard and exhausted, with red-rimmed eyes and pale. Gary let out a heavy breath – he could not remember a time when he had been gladder to see that face. His fists gripped the bars with frustration at their distance. "Are you okay?"

"Forget about it," he dismissed. He was sure he had to be looking better than the other man did. "What about you? How the hell did you end up in here?"

"I'm fine," Ash replied, but he was clenching his teeth. "It's a long story."

"Would you look at that," Gary tossed one arm between the bars to showcase the empty hall. "It looks like we're made of time. Is everyone captured? Son of a –"

"No," Ash cut him off, shaking his head. "Just me."

"How'd you manage that, genius?" Ash flinched, but it was not due to Gary's words. When the dark-haired trainer lowered himself slowly down the bars to sit, eyes shut tight until he was settled, Gary grew more concerned. "First you're going to tell me what's wrong with you."

"I told you that I'm –"

"I'm seriously lacking in bullshit tolerance today, Ashy-boy," he demanded. "This is your chance to tell me straight."

"It's my back, alright?" Ash confessed vaguely in an irritated tone. "Can we go into that later? I'm trying to tell you how I ended up in here."

So Gary let him. The entire duration of the story, Gary listened, and for once it wasn't hard to keep his comments to himself. Because most of the thoughts he was having were not snide, but questions that didn't pertain to Ash's explanation at all. Like why the other man looked like he had run a marathon, or why his voice was so breathy or his face so pale. Like why he seemed to think that Gary wouldn't notice his hand trembling.

But then Ash reached a point in his telling that snapped Gary's attention back.

"You," he began slowly, "took your noctowl ahead to Goldenrod because of the shipwreck?"

"I didn't know what had happened to you," he explained, eyes falling to the ground, "if you were okay or not."

He closed his eyes tightly. Visions of himself slicing his hand open on the scale of a gyarados and swatting an empty pokeball played over in his mind.

"Ash," he changed the course of the conversation with a grave tone, "where are our pokemon?"

When Ash did not immediately answer, he thought of Umbreon and his heart twisted. He couldn't even be sure if Galactic had been able to find her, and if not, who was looking after her in Petalburg City? He thought of Norman Maple patting her head and feeding her leftovers and could have spit with anger. Then he heard the worry so evident in the other trainer's voice and he thought of Charizard, feeling sick.

"I don't know."

"I have to tell you something before you keep going."

"What?"

He looked back into his cell, away from the other man's face. He wasn't sure that he could admit to anything while returning that stare.

"I lost your charizard."

There was a moment's silence.

"Gary," Ash began, and the way his voice sounded like it was supposed to be so comforting made him want to be sick all over again, "I know. They took all the pokemon I had on me, too. We'll find them and -"

"You don't get it," he carried on, frustration growing, mostly at himself, "not here. In the ocean."

"…What?"

He couldn't take the way that Ash's voice sounded. He was sure that he couldn't take it.

"I lost his ball in the shipwreck," he spit it out, rambling on so that he wouldn't have to hear anything more from his counterpart, "I have no idea when or how, but when it was over - when the wreck was over, I didn't have it. I didn't have the pokeball. I don't know. I don't know where it is. I never found it."

"…The ocean?"

"Yes!" Gary burst, louder and more forcefully than necessary. Necessary, however, to allow Gary to pretend that he didn't care half as much as he did about that charizard or his damn trainer, that he wasn't feeling guilt boil in his gut like sludge. "The ocean, the vast and never-ending goddamn ocean."

"So I'll…"

Ash trailed off. Gary wasn't looking, refused to look at him, but had he looked he would have seen the dark-haired man's grip on the bars fall to the floor and his stare drop from the side of Gary's face. He looked lost in his own world.

"You'll never get him back, no," Gary finished the sentence unceremoniously for him. When Gary finally brought himself in that moment to look back over, he found that the other man had disappeared from the door. "Ash."

Ash Ketchum did not reappear. Gary continued to call, but for what must have been hours he heard nothing and saw nothing of the other trainer. For all that he knew, the other man could have left his cell entirely somehow. He tried to retreat into his own chamber and steal sleep on the bench he was offered, but none would come. Instead he tossed and turned, unsure whether it was the cold metal or the gnawing guilt that was more uncomfortable. He got up finally and returned to the bars again, leaning his back against them and looking out at the vacant doorway of Ash's cell.

"Ash," as he expected, there was another bout of silence, "I know you're not going to answer me, but you don't exactly have a choice in whether you're going to hear me or not."

Silence.

"I didn't…I didn't mean to be such an ass."

Already the words felt caught in his throat. This was much more difficult coming up than he had expected it to be.

"I just…I feel like shit, okay? I feel like absolute shit. And I know that I deserve it and that this is my fault, and that you – you trusted me with him, and I fucked up. Big time. Okay?"

More silence.

"And – I'm just – I mean, I'm trying to…" Fuck, what was he even babbling about? "I'm fucking sorry, okay? I'm sorry."

It was a strange phrase leaving the lips of Gary Oak, but once it had slipped past it felt like he had dodged a bullet, even when he received no reply from Ash.

"I'm sorry," he repeated again, this time much more softly, more for himself this time. He looked up from the concrete and realized that Ash had appeared at the door.

"You've never said that before," the dark-haired man said quietly. His eyes were blatantly red now, and his voice sounded watery, though Gary knew he had not heard a single sniff or shudder from Ash Ketchum's cell in all that time of silence. "Not once in our whole lives."

"Never said what?"

"That you're sorry," he kept on, "for anything. Not a single thing. You'd push me around in school and you wouldn't even apologize then, not even when my mom tried to make you."

"All she was going to do was count to three," he muttered in a puzzled reply, unsure why the conversation would head in this direction and not in the way where Ash Ketchum damned him to hell. "Nothing was ever going to happen on three."

"Kids aren't supposed to know that. You even called me a faggot and you didn't say it then."

"I didn't mean it like –"

"Yeah, like hell you didn't," Ash went on, narrowing his eyes, "because you kissed me and you_ liked_ it."

Gary had nothing to say to that. Not that he was coming up with anything intelligible in his brain at the moment anyway. He was fairly certain his eyes looked like a deerling caught in headlights, and he felt like scrambling for any safe place where he would never be made to talk about this.

"So if you were hoping we had some kind of mutually unspoken agreement that we would never bring that up," he carried on a little quieter, "we don't."

He could remember how he had felt, hiding in Ritchie's bathroom, staring at the phone with which he had just hung up on his sister like it carried the plague. How he had told himself that no matter how much he wanted to pretend that this had never happened, he wasn't going to be that person.

Yet, he had proceeded through the entire day without taking advantage of a single opportunity to confront Ash like an adult. He had stayed in the open and laughed and made jokes, and addressed every issue but the unspoken donphan in the room had assumed that Ash Ketchum would simply be okay with it like he was, in theory for the rest of their lives.

"I didn't think that you wanted to talk about it," he shrugged, unsure what else to say. It was not the kind of haughty shrug usually associated with Gary Oak addressing Ash Ketchum, but instead accompanied by a few swift shakes of the head and wide eyes. "I wasn't hoping anything."

"You've never admitted that anything was ever your fault before, either," Ash carried right along with his tirade, "and you know what? What happened to...what happened to Charizard wasn't even your fault."

"Yes, it was."

"No. You were in a shipwreck," he carried on more forcefully. Gary knew that it would be wise to back down and let himself get away with this heinous crime scot-free of Ash Ketchum's eternal hatred, but somehow he couldn't convince himself to do it. "That's like throwing someone in a giant washing machine and telling them to keep track of one sock."

"That's a terrible analogy."

"I don't blame you for what happened," Ash ignored him, "that wasn't your fault. It doesn't mean that I'm okay with what happened or that I don't care, but…_I'm_ not going to take it out on you when you don't deserve it."

Something about that last part made Gary think that he was being subtly accused of something.

"But if you're going to go on pretending that we never did anything, " Gary was avoiding Ash's very purposeful stare, "and not take this chance to talk about any of it, that_ will_ be your fault."

"You kissed me first."

He was aware that this was not the most relevant point that he had ever made.

_And the gold star for maturity goes to Gary Oak._

"Right," Ash glared, turning his back, "sorry about that."

"Whatever, fine," he shrugged, and this gesture was more of his classic devil-may-care style. Until he finished his thought. "But I'm not."

"Not what."

"I'm not sorry," he shot back, then added slightly more hesitantly, "that you kissed me, or whatever."

The door at the end of the hallway flew open, causing both parties to jump and then fall eerily silent. Footsteps could be heard growing ever closer, and soon a violet-haired woman came into view between their cells. Anger burned suddenly in Gary's stomach and he gripped the bars.

"Who the hell are you?" He demanded. "Are you going to tell me what the hell is going on?"

"Easy," the woman answered, not looking amused. "You're being held on charges of destruction and theft of federal property, illegal immigration, evading the police, possession of pokemon…oh, but on the bright side, your first-degree murder charges are being argued to two counts of involuntary manslaughter. Need I go on, or have you gotten a grasp of the bigger picture?"

Gary growled.

"You'll be standing trial as soon as possible," she went on, tight-lipped, "it's even going to be screened publicly throughout Kanto. Should be huge in the press – you'll like that, won't you, Oak?"

He narrowed his eyes and didn't give her the satisfaction of an answer.

"You'll get the death penalty, I imagine," she speculated casually, as if discussing the weather, "or several life sentences. You're frankly quite the menace to society."

"Team Galactic is the menace," Ash hissed. She turned her sharp eyes on him.

"Don't get an attitude quite yet with me, Ketchum," she warned. "I've come to bring you good news. Despite Oak's _stunning_ criminal record and your history of slipping between the cracks of our system, I'm going to transport you both to some more hospitable quarters. Does that sound like something the two of you can handle cooperatively?"

The woman led them one at a time – first Ash, and then Gary. Frustratingly, he was blindfolded throughout the transfer. When the woman removed the fabric from around his head, he found himself in a room that was nicer than even the hotel they had stayed at in Olivine City – comparable to his suite as the Champion, if not for the lack of diamonds and gold.

"Where is this?" He demanded. Ash appeared from around a corner.

"There aren't any knives in the kitchen," the dark-haired man stated, "or forks."

"You don't need to worry about where it is," the Galactic Administrator ushered him forward further into the room, "and you won't find anything like that in here, Ketchum – nothing that could be used as a deadly weapon."

"Anything can be used as a deadly weapon," Gary muttered. In fact he was contemplating picking up the nearby end table and heaving it at her.

"If that's how you feel, I can at any time take you back to your cell," she smirked condescendingly at him. "Try using your toilet as a weapon there."

"Wait," Ash called as she moved to close the door. "Where are our pokemon?"

"She's not going to tell us," Gary scowled and thought worriedly of Umbreon. "Save your breath."

"He's right," she smirked, "certainly not where you found them last time, Ketchum."

The door shut and locked behind her.

"What did she mean by that?" Gary asked, looking around the room. Ash took a few steps into the designated living area and lowered carefully onto a couch.

"This isn't the first time I've been held by Galactic, remember?" He sighed. "But they kept me in the cell then."

"Any idea why they're being so generous with the housing nowadays?"

"No," he muttered absentmindedly, "but I don't like it."

"Did they hurt your pokemon last time you were in here?" Gary asked next.

"Not until I tried to escape."

"Yeah, well, I have a slight issue with that," Gary let out a gust of air. "Because I plan on escaping, and not without my umbreon if she's in here."

"Do they have Misty and May, too?"

Gary paused before falling back into a chair. It had been hours since he had spared the redhead a thought, but he found that none of the anger that had kept them silent towards each other for weeks now remained. Instead, only worry was left.

"Yeah, Misty. But May is safe." he answered, remembering with a spark of anger how Norman Maple had delivered him to Galactic. Then realized that Ash was lying face first on the couch rather than in a more usual position. "Hey, didn't you say something about your back earlier?"

"What? I'm fine."

But he didn't look fine. Gary noticed that the other man still looked paler than usual.

"You're not," he decided for himself, rising from his seat. "Let me see."

"What – Gary!" Ash tried to fend off the intrusion, but Gary quickly took advantage of his position and had his shirt up to his shoulders, batting away any offensive hands and straddling his lower back. There was a large swath of gauze across his shoulder blades and Gary moved to tear it away without much thought.

"Stop!" Ash was struggling. "Gary, just leave it on, please! Look, I'll tell you what happened, okay? Stop!"

Reluctantly Gary relented, but he didn't move from his place in case the other man tried to take back his agreement.

"Fine, get talking then."

"It's really not that big of a deal," Ash began, but it didn't sound convincing. It sounded like something he felt compelled to say out of fear that Gary would fly back into action prying his bandages off again. "They just…were messing around with my scars."

Gary narrowed his eyes. "I don't know what that means. You're going to have to be a lot more specific if you want me to get up."

"It's nothing, just a few cuts."

Gary had had enough, and with a swift motion he tore the gauze from its place and revealed the truth for himself.

Ash was swearing profusely now, but Gary could hardly hear. He was much more mesmerized by the scars on Ash Ketchum's back, which when he had seen them before had already taken his breath away as they were. Now they looked one hundred times worse. Fresh blood was shimmering in each letter, the edges beginning to scab. What had been faint reminders of old imprisonment were now deep red words blazing against clammy skin, freshly re-carved.

Gary was off in a flash, and the bathroom door had slammed behind him before either party could think. He wasn't quite sure why he had retreated to the bathroom – he had no plan of action, though being near a toilet might soon come in handy as he did feel rather like puking. Instead he slapped both palms down across the edge of the sink and gripped it with white-knuckled fists, looking around the bathroom for things he could destroy in his sickened anger.

"Gary?" There was a knock. "Are you okay?"

He let out a sick chuckle and threw open the door.

"Am I okay?" He motioned towards himself. "Am I okay? I don't know, Ash. Do you see any blood on me? Do I have anything carved in my goddamn skin?"

"Gary –"

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" He balked. "You said you were fine, not that they re-engraved and entire sentence across your shoulder blades!"

"I didn't want to freak you out," Ash said quietly. "Will you just sit down or something? You look like you're going to puke."

"I probably am," Gary pushed past him, careful not to hit his shoulders too roughly even in his anger. "I probably am going to puke. This is insanity."

He fell back onto the couch and sank into the cushions. With revulsion he realized that the very surface he sat on was provided to them by the same people responsible for his counterpart's condition.

"Gary, I'm feeling alright, okay?" Ash continued in an attempt to soothe him. He picked up the gauze from the couch and discarded it into a nearby garbage bin. "They're not trying to kill me. They just –"

"They just want to brand you like a farm pokemon, no big deal!" He tossed his arms up, but Ash seemed about done with his show and grabbed his wrists, pulling him roughly up to stand on two feet.

"Has it occurred to you that this is what they want?" He said sternly, not letting go of his wrists. "That they're trying to shake you up? Because they are. They want you, and me, and everyone else they've had in here as unstable as they can get them. It's all mind games, Gary. That woman who was in here? She plays mind games with all of us."

"Excuse me," he began more calmly, "if I'm a little less concerned with a couple maniacs who think my life is a damn chess board and a little more concerned about the hackjob they did on your back."

"Gary," Ash was staring at him with eyes so serious and genuinely worried that he let out a huge breath of air just to give the obvious impression that he was calming down, "this is not the worst thing that is going to happen here. I can promise you that. We have three options in this place, okay? Get out soon, get out later, or die slowly."

"Well, what am I supposed to say to that?" He argued. "Should I get out the poster board for brainstorming or do you want me to make funeral arrangements?"

"Just," he sighed and let go of Gary's wrists, which he brought up to cross his arms, "keep your cool, alright? They want to get you rattled."

"And with our pokemon missing," he growled, "they already have enough to use against us."

"Right," Ash agreed, still standing in front of him. "Let's not give them anything else, okay?"

Gary sighed, but he knew that Ash was right. They couldn't afford to let Team Galactic get to them, and he couldn't be brandishing furniture the next time an Administrator walked through that door, however much he might want to. Nothing like that would get him anywhere constructive, and with Umbreon's location unknown, he couldn't risk indirectly hurting her with senseless action.

Eventually Gary figured that several hours must have passed, because Ash was crawling into bed like it was already night. However the room bore no windows nor a clock, and so Gary was left to guess what the time might be. He figured that this addition was simply another ploy to pick at their sanity, so he took a shower to clear his head.

"Ash," he kicked open the door gently, "get up."

The dark-haired trainer was not yet asleep, simply lying face first onto his bed, not even covered in any blankets and still in the day's clothing. He groaned in response.

"Seriously, grab me some sweatpants."

"You do it," the reply came muffled, and Gary rolled his eyes. Even under the current circumstances Ash managed to be unhelpful somehow

"Whatever," he muttered, stepping out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. He began rummaging through various dresser drawers in search of something suitable. Soon dressed, he retreated to his own bed and crawled into it, reaching over to smack the wall light switch to the off position. Ash looked as if he might have passed out in that short time with shoes and all, but Gary didn't feel it was right to disturb him with what a hell the past few days must have been like. He felt almost angry that the only injury he could speak of was the dot in his thigh from a tranquilizer dart.

Uneasily he crawled into the bed that Team Galactic had provided for him. He felt resentful enjoying the comforts provided by him by the very people who had hurt Ash and made his life hell – but he could not deny that he took comfort in the fact that Ash Ketchum was but a stone's throw away. Eventually, though slowly, sleep claimed him.


	23. No More Splitting Up

This is the last update for while I'll be gone! There will be more to come once I return.

Oh, and, uh...a big round of applause for all the reviewers and followers of this story who aren't Palletshippers, and a big pat on the back to them if they make it through this chapter! It's another one that has some interesting scenes begging for any quality critique reviewers might have to offer.

**Disclaimer: I don't own Pokemon.**

* * *

He couldn't be sure how long he had been out when a noise stirred him from his sleep. He sat up in bed slowly, brushing the bangs from his eyes.

Across the room Ash was turning over repeatedly in his bed. Gary winced every time he rolled onto his back, imagining the soreness that would come in the morning, or whatever time it might be. The other man was mumbling intelligibly in his sleep, kicking out at the sheets, dislodging the blanket that had been beneath him to start with and casting it to the floor. Gary sighed and threw back his own comforter to walk soundlessly closer.

Ash's eyes were closed tightly and his face and neck were covered in a cold sweat. Gary grimaced with pity and reached down.

"Hey," he placed his hands on Ash's arm and tried to shake him gently awake to no avail. He tried again more forcefully, and this time the other trainer's eyes fluttered open. He looked around the room with lazy confusion, and then darted into a sitting position. "Relax, it's just me."

For a second Ash didn't seem to recognize him, and it was an unfamiliar sensation being stared at by his childhood friend with the troubled expression that one might give an overly friendly stranger. Then everything seemed to click into place, and he let out the breath he had been holding since he stirred from his unsettled slumber.

"What?" He started slowly, "what's going on?"

"Nothing," Gary answered quietly, "you were just moving a lot in your sleep."

"I can tell," he winced, "how many times did I roll onto my back?"

"Probably too many," Gary answered. Ash sighed and flipped over onto his stomach, splaying out across the bed again and closing his eyes. Gary returned to the foot of his bed, his work appearing to be done for the night and Ash ready to return to a hopefully less fitful sleep.

But watching the other man he found he really wasn't interested in going back to bed. He cast his eyes from the floor to the ceiling and back to Ash again, but he had the feeling that if he got into bed he wasn't going to relax again. Ash had him all worked up over something small like a nightmare and he couldn't shake it.

_Well, I'm not staying up the rest of the night, or day, or whatever the hell myself._

He left the lights off and crossed the room back over to where Ash was, reached down and pulled his counterpart straight onto his feet.

"What the hell, Gary?" Ash grumbled as Gary proceeded to drag him to the couch nearby. The other man rubbed his eyes as Gary pushed him back onto it and took the seat beside, lounging back. "Seriously, what are you doing?"

"I can't sleep," Gary shrugged, kicking his bare feet onto the coffee table.

"I can," Ash yawned.

"Yeah, well, I woke you up out of your little nightmare," Gary explained, "now you have to return the favor. Be a good roommate and don't make me stay up all this time by myself."

"Like you would _let_ me make you," he rubbed his eyes but finally looked back at Gary across the couch. His hat had since fallen off its place on his head during the night and was now residing on the floor near the bed allowing Ash's hair to fly about untamed. "If you're going to keep me up you better at least keep me entertained."

"Oh yeah?" He chuckled. "You want a bedtime story?"

"Something like that," Ash half-smiled, "more like a, 'how-did-you-get-captured' story."

Gary sighed dramatically and rested either arm back against the couch.

"That's kind of a long one," he began with mock-skepticism. "We might have to split it into a couple nights with the way you keep rubbing your eyes, Ashy-boy."

"You'd be tired too if you spent the better part of a day – never mind," he finished unceremoniously, waving it off with a hand motion. Gary narrowed his eyes.

"What, getting a novel sliced into your back for the second time?" He finished for him, feeling a familiar frustration churning in his gut from earlier.

"They burned it in the first time," Ash said rather nonchalantly, "not sure why they switched."

Gary stared completely deadpan. Ash muttered a brief apology, but his mood was already ruined.

"You know what," he shifted to get to his feet, "it is better that I just get some sleep. Maybe I'll have sweet dreams, you know, like the kind where I get to strangle every last Galactic –"

"Stop," Ash cut him off, more of a plea than a command. Not sticking around to see whether or not Gary chose to listen, the other man stood up and kicked off his shoes, heading for the dresser.

"Are you just gonna stare at me like a creep?" Ash blinked at him with his old shirt in a pile on the ground, ready to pull the new one over his head. Gary realized that in an irritated lapse of attention his eyes had settled onto the other man as he changed. He shrugged and smirked, trying to take the advice he had received earlier and shake off his thoughts before they got to him, choosing the best way he knew how.

"Maybe. Call it returning the favor for when I got out of the shower earlier."

"I was like, asleep."

"It's nothing to be embarrassed about, Ashy-boy, I'm quite a piece of work."

"Oh boy," he said dully, rolling his eyes, "what's that I hear? Fan girls screaming all over the world."

"It happens on occasion, if by occasion I mean every day."

"So you are gonna just keep staring," Ash suddenly switched the conversation back around on him, "right, okay."

He kicked his pants loose anyway.

"Hey, you're the one jumping me any chance you get," he grinned mockingly in the low visibility of the room. "Every time I so much as glance at you I basically do you a favor."

"Well, it's a good thing you have all those admirers throwing themselves at you," Ash shrugged, returning to his bed and crawling in. "Because the great Gary Oak is seriously lacking in the guts to go after anybody by himself."

Immediately he frowned.

"Excuse me?"

There was no reply. Ash was buried beneath blankets with no sign of returning and backing up that statement. With creeping disapproval he realized that he didn't have to back it up – had Ash been recently reduced to hiding in a bathroom and grasping at straws for who he could phone over him?

The thought that Ash Ketchum might realize how he truly scared Gary Oak was far more terrifying than the initial fear itself. This left him with two options in his mind.

_I can show him that I'm not afraid of him or anything we might have…done._

Even though he was.

_Or I can get up and go to sleep and pretend this never happened – again – and risk that he'll…_

The second fear, that Ash Ketchum would realize that he was Gary Oak's equal, was something that had nagged at him subconsciously for years, stemming from childhood. It was not something that he could put into words, because on the conscious level Gary honestly did not believe that he thought Ash to be beneath him. But a lifetime of easily one-upping your rival did not extinguish easily, especially when facing as obvious a challenge as this was.

Power struggles were best to be avoided, Gary thought, in matters such as these. But as he crossed the room he realized he had no idea what kind of matter he was currently involved in with Ash, and so it didn't really matter how or why it started so long as only he finished it. Gary cast back the blankets in a way that visibly startled his target, who clearly hadn't expected him to actually take the bait. Realistically Gary had no plan, but behind his entire ego there was a large heap of honest confidence, and he knew that Ash wanted this just as badly as Gary refused to admit that he did.

He shoved Ash's left shoulder back onto the bed to force him back flat, ignoring his slight grunt of discomfort as his back pressed into the bedding, closing his lips over Ash's. Impatient to repair whatever damage had been done to his pride with the other's comment, he bit the other's lower lip in demand, who allowed Gary's tongue to slide through. Ash seemed surprised into inaction for a moment, but then he brought his hands up to Gary's sides and let them glide across his bare skin.

"No guts, huh?" He growled lowly, grabbing the other by the hips and dragging him down the bed until he was settled against the crotch of Gary's sweatpants. There was not much between them, with Ash clad in nothing more than his boxer briefs and a tee shirt, which Gary was already working on removing.

This time, he noticed, was much less frantic – there was no subconscious worry in either of them that they had to work quickly before they realized what they were doing. There could be no pretending that this was an accident or a misunderstanding. Ash had practically asked him for it, and he was obliging.

"No more splitting up," Ash breathed as Gary was working down his abdomen with his lips. He mumbled an agreement, not particularly paying attention. He wasn't interested in thinking about responsibility or troubles at the moment.

Ash gasped when Gary pulled down his boxers in a swift motion and took the tip of his cock into his mouth. Gary had no experience in this department - not something that he could say about many things - but it seemed to be doing the trick for Ash. He sucked slowly, savoring the control he had over his partner's pleasure despite the strangeness of it all. He added to the sensation with his hand, ignoring how Ash was pushing up gently with his hips, trying to urge him to do more.

"Suck," he pulled back briefly, bringing his fingers up to Ash's lips, who did as he was told. Once he felt certain that he was prepared enough, Gary brought his lips back down over Ash's tip and touched his now more lubricated fingers to his entrance.

Ash gasped and squirmed as he pressed his fingers inside. Gary took him further into his mouth to distract from the sensation as he moved the digits in and out repeatedly. His breathing came quicker as he increased his pace.

"I-I'm gonna –"

Gary pulled away but kept his hand going as Ash shuddered with release, spilling onto his abdomen. As he watched the other man panting on the bed sheets, he became increasingly more aware of the strain in his sweatpants.

"Come here," he reached down and pulled Ash back up towards him, setting them both up on their knees. For the first time since the other trainer had instigated their encounter, they were actually face-to-face, and admittedly Gary could feel a similar uncomfortable feeling in his gut like he had felt when he had realized who he was with outside of Mahogany Town. But this time he couldn't blame a clouded mind on his decisions.

"I want to…" Ash started to say something, but he trailed off and chuckled like whatever he was going to say had been ridiculous. Gary snaked his hands around and grabbed his ass.

"What?" He smirked, and Ash jumped like he hadn't expected it and laughed while trying to push him away.

"Nothing," he shrugged, "it was stupid anyway."

"Tell me," Gary insisted teasingly, "don't be such a _girl_ about it –"

Suddenly Ash had flipped them both and was now settled over Gary, who was lying back on the bed sheets. After a moment's confusion he was inclined to grapple his way back into a dominant position, but decided to give it a moment. Besides, Ash was making his way down Gary's abdomen, down to the much neglected erection he was sporting. He could feel Ash's breath ghosting over the strain in his sweatpants, which he pulled down out of the way. Unlike Gary had done with him, Ash didn't waste time teasing or withholding any pleasure from his partner. He seemed all too happy to please Gary however he wanted, obliging his best even as Gary wrapped his fingers in his hair and encouraged him further downwards. Strangely enough Ash seemed rather experienced with what he was doing, certainly more so than Gary had been. He wasn't sure if that was something he _wanted _to be better at than Ash.

Gary sucked in a hissing breath and shuddered as Ash swallowed. There was a moment of silence, only Gary's breath slowing to be heard, as the air around him cooled and he felt a similar discomfort that he had felt he first time he had been with – or rather, tried to be with – Ash.

Gary was not one with much experience with pillow talk. He had been with more girls than he could think of off the top of his head, and it was easy enough to blind them with some charm after fooling around, but legitimately tender conversation were not a common theme in his life. So when Ash got up to clean himself off in the bathroom, Gary quietly made his way to his own bed.

It was nothing personal, he reasoned with himself as he crawled under the sheets, and it wouldn't hurt Ash's feelings, right? He didn't know how to handle things like this. He wasn't used to it. When Ash came back out, he had his back to him, feigning sleep. He didn't want to know the other man's reaction to his shift, whether it be good, bad or neutral.

He did his best to fall back to sleep.

* * *

"You were right."

In a room consisting of almost entirely computer screens stood two women. One was significantly taller than the other, her violet-hair pulled back neatly. The other had a pistol in hand, but it was lazily settled on the desk she was leaning on as she growled the statement. The taller woman grinned.

"What did I tell you, Mars?" She sniggered. "I know you want my job, but at least admit I do it well."

"I don't want your job, you rude little –" the redhead bit her tongue with a snarl. "Don't get a big head, Jupiter, or I'll pop it for you."

"I only want credit where it's due," Jupiter tried to conceal her chuckles, avoiding any further outbursts by her co-worker. "Would it really kill you, Mars, to tell me just once what a nice job I've done?"

"What about the nice job_ Mars_ has done?" The shorter woman pointed at herself with her free hand, wedging her index finger against the armor over her chest. "I'm the one who trekked across national borders to bring those criminals in. You should be thanking me, especially after I had to spend weeks with that revolting ghost-type of yours. The little shit even phased through me."

"You're lucky Cyrus asked me to lend you her," she added. "You'd have never brought them in without Mismagius. And if you didn't want her harassing you, you shouldn't have pointed a gun at the man she was ordered to find alive."

"Please," Mars rolled her eyes and turned with disgust for the door. "And don't you mean 'demanded'? Since when has Cyrus _asked_ anyone for anything?"

"Does he have to?" Jupiter shrugged, her voice following the redhead towards the exit. "Just think of what he's done for you."

The other administrator paused briefly.

"Just pull Gary Oak in the morning," she spit, and Jupiter heard the door slam venomously.

"Piss poor attitude," Jupiter whispered to herself, eyeing the screen in front of her, where a blurred image of Ash Ketchum vanishing into a bathroom and Gary Oak slipping from one bed to another was playing. "She'll never have my job with a temper like that."

No, Administrator Mars was much more suited to her current position. Jupiter's job, however…that required cunning. Not that her coworker wasn't, but she hardly ever felt compelled to employ it. Jupiter had the feeling that if Administrator Mars could keep her head even once in a stressful situation she might actually have something to worry about, but Jupiter had something else that Mars did not - patience.

As she exited the room, locking the door behind her, she felt fortunate that she had hit the nail so directly on the head this time – it looked like she wouldn't even need patience to know how best to take advantage of Gary Oak.

* * *

The next morning Ash said nothing about his behavior, nor their encounter, but unlike last time there was a mutual understanding that they would not ignore it. Though Gary did not notice it, Ash was seeming especially aloof after waking up alone. Gary instead chose to acknowledge what had happened in the form of power play jibes and teasing, but Ash seemed not to be offended by them.

"Why should I get defensive?" He shrugged when Gary pointed it out. "I know why you're doing it."

"And why's that?"

"The same reason you always picked on me," he said simply, "except I didn't see it before."

Ash refused to elaborate further, and he couldn't help but feel like he had been pinned as a child throwing stones at their crush. But he didn't have crushes. He was an adult. And if he did, he wouldn't have them on Ash Ketchum - even if he was sort of maybe cute, in a weird kind of way.

_Shit, ignore that thought._

"Let me see your back."

Ash stared blankly, like he didn't know what the other man was referring to. Gary rolled his eyes from the couch.

"It's fine."

The other trainer continued rummaging for food in the kitchen.

"Then let me see it," he insisted. "If it's fine what do you have to worry about?"

"You threatening to puke again," Ash had his back turned and was face-deep in the refrigerator. "Your sanity."

Gary growled and let the matter drop. Truly there was nothing to be found in Gary inspecting the wounds a second time. He wasn't a doctor nor did he have any kind of supplies that might be useful. Ash was right in that all it would accomplish was to upset him, but Gary couldn't see it.

When both of their attentions were distracted by the distinct noise of metal clanking sounded from just beyond their door, Gary had to admit that he was somewhat relieved. Whoever was about to visit would probably give them something pressing to talk about, which would allow him to spend less time wondering how he was supposed handle their night before aside from joking about it. Gary got to his feet to stand closer to Ash as the door swung open.

"Good morning," it was Administrator Jupiter, and Gary was in no mood to play formalities with her. He kept a grip on his anger and crossed his arms instead of hurling the closest heavy object at her. "Did you both get a good night's sleep?"

"I'm not really interested in small talk," Gary cut to the chase. Ash glanced at him out of the corner of his eyes. "Do me a favor and get to the point, administrator."

The woman's snide grin didn't fade, though Gary wished he could wipe it from her face. She adjusted her bun and removed the pistol from her belt, which he was getting used to seeing.

"We're going to do a little moving," she began. "Someone else is going to be occupying this room, and the two of you will be coming with me."

Gary and Ash exchanged quick eye contact. There was a slew of questions that he wanted to ask his counterpart, but he felt that none of them were acceptable to voice in front of one of their captors. He didn't want to appear unsure of anything in front of a Team Galactic member.

"How about this," Ash spoke up in a tone that surprised him, though not unpleasantly. "You let us see our pokemon – just see them, to make sure they're unharmed – and we won't put up any sort of fight."

Admin Jupiter looked intrigued. She bit her lip in thought, eyes trailing to the ceiling before she came to a decision.

"Alright," she smirked. "But one at a time. I won't risk moving the both of you at once."

"No," Gary said immediately, but Ash moved his hand briefly to nudge against his. Still he insisted. "No, Ash. No more splitting up."

He echoed his partner's decision from the night before. This seemed to strike a chord in Ash, who looked reluctant to argue.

"Here are your options," Jupiter cracked down, looking less amused. "One by one, or not at all. You'll both be transferred to your new quarters whether you agree to or not, but I can provide this little treat you want so badly only if you agree to my terms."

"No," Gary insisted.

"We_ do_ have your mutt, Oak," the administrator confirmed his fears, "in case you were wondering if we might have missed her."

He cursed. The thought of seeing Umbreon compelled him to change his mind. Even more than he wanted to ensure that she was safe, he knew that she _needed_ the visit. He remembered opening the door on the sinking ship and her crashing into him as she flew out, and again of having to kick her away from him in the snow as Ash Ketchum's house burned down nearby.

She had to be his priority, because there was not a time that he could remember in his life that he had not been hers.

"Fine," he settled. "I'm first."

"No," Ash protested, "he can go after –"

"Ash," Gary interrupted in a warning tone, "just shut up."

He held out his hands to be cuffed, and much to his irritation she blindfolded him as well. The last thing he saw was Ash's eyes, determined but worried, before the fabric was pulled down and he was led from the room by a chain attached to his restraints.

Gary allowed himself to be led, paying careful attention to the sounds around him as his only clues to where he might be going. After a few minutes, he noticed a strange sound that sounded a fair distance away, like faint booms.

"What's that?" He asked suddenly. Jupiter sounded unenthusiastic.

"Hm?"

"That muffled sound," he continued as it went on. There were only brief breaks in between the sounds.

"Some difficult fire-type," Jupiter answered absentmindedly. He was surprised to have even received a reply – had Admin Mars been leading him, he knew he would have gotten much less. "We've been trying to tame it for days."

"And no luck?" He couldn't resist the chuckle.

"If you find it so funny," the woman answered less friendly, "I can slip you into his cage blindfolded and cuffed, and you can try your luck."

"I think I'll pass," he shrugged, looking nonchalant and trying to convince himself that was not where he was headed. "What is it, anyway?"

"No more questions," she closed off. A moment later there was a roar so immense that it could not possibly be coming from the same mysterious source – in fact, it sounded metallic, like machinery ripping apart a building. The noise was so great that it shook the building and both he and Jupiter came to an abrupt halt.

"What the hell?" He burst as it subsided. "Is that more of your top secret pokemon -?"

His question was cut short by a second round of noise. He tried to bring his shoulders up to his ears to cover them, cringing with pain at the harsh sound. Admin Jupiter was silent and still, and in his blind world it was like she had completely disappeared. Panic began to grow in his chest as he realized that he was both restrained and blinded in whatever situation was about to be upon them. Everything went suddenly bright – even behind the fabric of his blindfold he could tell – and Jupiter let out an uncharacteristic shriek. Over the roaring came a burst of white noise and static, and he too cried out and fell to his knees over the pain that the raucous noise caused his ears. The building was shaking so violently that he could felt Jupiter fall to her hands and knees right beside him, and if it hadn't been insanity for him to think it sounded to him as if the very roof above their heads was being torn from the building's framework. Jupiter, unbeknownst to him, was shouting, but it could not be heard in the slightest over the chaos. Gravel and debris rained down on him, and he curled up to protect his face.

Then, his blindfold was torn from his face, opening the world to him. His eyes burned and watered with the sudden painful light, but the face in front of him was still unmistakable though hard to make out.

"Gramps?" He mouthed, unheard over the sound. Admin Jupiter still had a firm grip with one hand on his chains, and yanked away from his grandfather. She was screaming something furious at the older man, who wore a pale expression of terror. He ducked his head as a brick dislodged from the wall nearby and rained down on their group, and Professor Oak shoved his head against the floor, not letting up. Gary didn't protest, keeping his eyes screwed shut and wishing the horrible noise would end. Something warm trailed down his jawline, and several people elsewhere in the building screamed out in agony before his entire world went white.


	24. Further Instruction

Before I continue with this update (glad to be back!) I'd like to ensure that everyone knows this story is 100% pure and raunchy Palletshipping. Okay, so maybe not pure, and maybe not raunchy (all the time, anyway...) but you get the idea. That's Gary and Ash and everything in between. Bearing that in mind, this is not a story where any sort of couple will be holding hands and skipping happily into the sunset, because it is not a story based on "romance". In any angst-y, tense situation couples have the possibility of arising, whether that be in fiction or in life, and the Footsoldiers plot is no exception. Just because there is Palletshipping does not mean there is not anything else to the story. NonPalletshippers are welcome to leave should they like, though I don't encourage or wish it, but I've dabbled in some pairings that were not always my favorites (Egoshipping, anyone?) for the sake of a story I enjoyed and even came out of it liking the idea significantly more. So to wrap this up, congratulations to any nonPalletshipper still holding out with us, and to the Palletshippers, I hope you're enjoying thus far and I am glad to be of service.

**Disclaimer: I do not own Pokemon.**

* * *

When Gary came around, he was in a thick jacket that did not belong to him. He was shivering consistently and a snowflake had just landed on his nose. He blinked slowly, taking in the world around him, and realized that he was being carried by two burly looking grunts on a stretcher through a throng of pine trees.

The winter wonderland around him was not conducive of late summer in Kanto or Johto.

"What happened?" He muttered drowsily, meeting no reply. After repeating himself several times, he grew frustrated with the stoic silence of the grunts at his head and feet. "Hello? Are either of you numbskulls going to actually answer me?"

The grunt at his feet used one hand to raise a small hand-held radio to his mouth.

"Administrator."

After several empty moments there came a heated reply.

"What?" Gary didn't need to ask to know that this grunt had the misfortune of speaking to Administrator Mars. "Do I seem like a woman with nothing better to do than chat at the moment?"

"Oak is awake. He wants clarification on what happened in Saffron."

"Which Oak, you oaf? And nice work giving away our location, the prisoners didn't know where they_ were._"

"My apologies, Administrator," Gary thought that the grunt was taking this extraordinarily well, or perhaps he just had a lot of experience being belittled by higher-ups. "The ex-Champion."

"Of course he does. Tell him we'll be having a little meeting shortly, the two of us. And do try not to give away any more information, or we'll also be having something of a meeting upon your arrival. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Administrator."

Gary could not say that he was especially looking forward to whatever little "meeting" that Admin Mars had planned for them, but he could not see how he could avoid it, especially strapped down like he was. Instead he came up with questions – like where the hell his friends, his grandfather, Ash Ketchum and his umbreon all were, on top of whatever had happened in Saffron City. Seeing his grandfather was a great sense of disturbance to him. He hadn't known that he was in the hands of Team Galactic as well – how many other surprises did Galactic have in store for him that he would not see coming?

They arrived at a building that appeared to be their destination, a huge structure down a road that still to Gary looked to be in the middle of a snowy nowhere. He was ushered inside and carried down a set of stairs into a large cement room that was too dark for him to see the entire length of. From what he could see as the grunts released him from the stretcher was that it looked like a scene straight out of medieval times, with chains hanging from the walls every now and then. There were no windows and no lights turned on, apart from the faint glow coming from down the stairs. He couldn't see exactly how large the room was, but from what he could tell it could comfortably house at least twenty people.

_Well, maybe not comfortably._

He was quickly transferred to a set of chains against the wall, allowing his wrists to be restrained. Unlike handcuffs they did not restrict his movement too much, merely preventing him from straying more than a foot away from his place. Sighing angrily, he settled back against the stone to wait.

"Hey."

The voice was quiet and from farther into the room, where visibility was poor. Gary strained his eyes.

"Who are you?" He answered.

"A prisoner, like you," the male voice answered simply. "Are you Gary Oak?"

"What's your name?" He insisted. He wasn't going to say anything to any stranger in these conditions.

"Salvador," the man replied back. Gary echoed it – that name sounded familiar, though he could not remember exactly how at that moment.

"Quiet!"

This new voice came from the top of the stairs, not in the darkness of the room, and Gary realized quickly with dread who it belonged to. As her figure descended the stairway he could slowly make out more of the woman drawing closer.

"Now," Administrator Mars began steadily, not smirking or looking snide like she usually could be found. "I believe we had a meeting scheduled."

For the following half hour, Admin Mars used Gary Oak as her personal punching bag. At first he tried fighting back, but pinned against the wall by his restraints he hardly had enough room to strike back, and she was not without her usual pistol at her side. By the time she paused they were both breathing heavily and he could feel the bruises beginning to form across his body as his very bones ached.

"Stop," Salvador's voice across the room beckoned. His tone was not frantic. "He hasn't done anything."

Mars stared for a moment, contemplating what had been said. Then she chuckled, surprising for her violent mood of the day and turned toward the voice in the darkness.

"You must be used to Administrator Jupiter," she began with amusement. "How cute. However, you are not her prisoners now, and I have my own take on how this situation should be handled. Understand, sweetheart?"

Nobody replied, as it was obviously not a question that beckoned an actual answer. Gary wondered briefly what exactly the situation she was referring to was, but his head was pounding too loudly for him to think about it with much clarity.

"You see, Administrator Jupiter and I operate a little differently," he could hear her loading her gun. For a fleeting second he closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the concrete, wondering if he kept his eyes closed if he would even notice if she pointed it at him and fired. "She might spoil you - put you in a nice fancy bed, feed you whatever you'd like, promise to keep you safe. But she could hit you where it hurts without ever laying a finger on you. I like to be a little more honest," she smirked, as if her take on torture made her a better person. "I'm not going to play games with you. We all know where we stand now, don't we?"

He could see that she was watching him, through his slightly cracked eyes in the barely illuminated room. He didn't answer.

"Administrator Mars."

Mars whipped her head around to the staircase, where a cool and collected male voice was emitting. It was a far cry from the redheaded woman's ranting.

"What?"

"Upstairs. You're being summoned."

"Well, tell that –"

"It's Cyrus, Administrator."

Admin Mars fell silent in a way that he had not seen her previously. Gary recognized the name and put it to a face he had seen briefly before on television as Mars hurried up the stairs. Team Galactic's leader.

"Ooh, looks like the big boss is calling."

"Alright," Gary spit blood onto the floor beside him, growing irritated with another unknown voice in his vicinity. "Exactly how many people are in here?"

"A grand total of three, counting you," the feminine voice replied. It was too dark in her direction for him to make out a face, but he could see the outline of her figure. "Don't get your panties in a bunch."

"And who are you?"

"Why should I say?" She replied to his gruff tone smugly. "I already know who you are. I've heard so much about you recently."

"Oh, yeah? I'm assuming you've heard of my friends then," he baited, trying to lure any information about Ash or Misty out of her.

"Eh," the response was bored, "no. I listened for bits and pieces of Oak family gossip specifically. Your name _screams_ money.

Gary sneered. He already didn't like whoever this woman was.

"If you don't know where my friends are, you're not useful to me," he finished bluntly.

"If you don't know where my husband is, you're not useful to me either," she returned. "So join the club."

"Arguing is pointless," Salvador spoke up. "We're all still chained to the same walls.

"Thanks for the reminder, kid," the woman answered sarcastically. "I had completely forgotten."

Gary wanted to know exactly what had happened, but he was too burnt out to take any more attitude from the mysterious woman and chose to stop speaking entirely. He knew she likely had more information than he did, especially if she had been as attentive as she implied about the gossip surrounding him, but he gathered that she was not likely to repeat it to him without a cost. He closed his eyes for some time, hoping that he would drift off, but the pounding in his head was proving too great to allow sleep.

"Do they ever let you out of here?" Salvador piped up, and he chose to listen in.

_Not that I have any choice whether I listen or not. Can't exactly get up and leave, can I?_

"Me?" She snorted. "No. Hardly. Bathroom privileges are about as good as it gets for me."

"Perhaps you don't behave yourself."

A man was making his way down the stairs who Gary had never seen before, his calm voice intersecting the conversation. In the bare lighting he caught a glimpse of short hair that rose in two peaks and a pair of thin, unfriendly eyes. However it was the woman being led in front of him that interested Gary more.

"Misty?" He blinked, wondering if Mars had hit him harder than he had thought. But as they descended it became clear that he was correct.

"She won't answer you," the man smiled. "At least not while I'm here. Miss Waterflower here hasn't spoken in about a week, so I've been told."

"What did you do to her?" He growled, following the pair with his eyes. He didn't bother fighting his restraints – he was sore enough already, and he knew it wouldn't do any good. He thought of what Ash had told him about mind games and didn't so much as flinch against the chains. This man probably expected a rise out of him.

"Oh, nothing," he said nonchalantly. Gary noticed that Misty was unusually compliant as she was chained about five feet to his right. "She did it all by herself."

Without explanation he left the way he had come. Gary turned his head, but Misty was not so much as looking at him, as if she hadn't realized he was even there. Her eyes were to the floor, a glossy sheen over them.

"Misty," he prodded, but she didn't seem to hear him.

"What did Saturn say her name was?" The unknown woman demanded suddenly. "Waterlily?"

"Will you shut the hell up?" He answered back forcefully. "What's it to you?"

"Don't get pissy with me because Mars wiped the floor with you," she snapped back without missing a beat, "why don't you just use a few hundred dollar bills for bandages?"

Gary chose, with some physical effort, to avoid further confrontation with the woman and focused his attention on Misty. Even after hearing the other prisoner's sour attitude, she hadn't reacted as she usually might. She had hardly blinked.

_Something's seriously wrong with her._

"Hey," he prompted more gently. "Talk to me."

There came no reply, and no matter how he insisted he could not get a response out of the redhead. His concern grew, and even though they had not seen each other since Petalburg City and not spoken since before the shipwreck, none of those events were present in his mind. The longer her silence continued the more it began to give him the creeps. He needed to get a reply out of her, even if it were a swift 'fuck off'.

"Do you think they drugged her?" Salvador asked. A chorus of laughter burst from the nameless woman before Gary could put forth an opinion. Had Gary not looked away angrily towards her, he might have seen Misty's head snap up at the sound.

"They didn't drug her," she continued snidely, "it's obvious that Jupiter got to her."

"And did what?" He asked, more towards Misty, but when he looked back the Cerulean Gym leader was already staring back towards the floor.

"What she always does. Targets weakness."

This meant little to him without the details of what might have happened, and so he ignored her.

It was awhile before their next visit from the outside world. Gary had drifted in and out of sleep and had no notion of how much time had passed during his stay in the dungeon, always woken by pain or stiffness. Blood had dried from his ears down to his chin, but he couldn't move his hands high enough to wipe it away. Galactic grunts brought them food on trays, and he had taken to keeping track of some vague notion of time by counting meals – which smelled like garbage, and looked worse. He ate them regardless, as did Misty, which was the only times he noticed her moving in the darkness.

"Hey," he called out to a grunt as the group of them headed up the stairs after delivering another meal. "Someone grab Administrator Mars for me. Tell her I'd like to see her when she has time."

"Are you out of your mind?" The woman scolded him, but one of the grunts nodded.

"She doesn't take orders lightly," he warned. "Are you certain?"

"It's not an order," he corrected. He didn't need another beating due to some misunderstanding. "Just a request."

"And take this shit with you," he heard a clatter as the woman nearby kicked her tray across the blackness.

"Administrator Saturn has made it clear that you may see your husband if you simply cooperate –"

"Saturn can kiss my ass!" She interrupted. "I know pokemon who wouldn't touch this slop."

The grunts ignored her and continued on their way without touching her discarded meal. Gary figured that by now they were used to this. Alone again, Salvador spoke up.

"You're on a hunger strike?"

"Until I get a decent meal, sure," she grumbled. "If you want to make me sound noble, go ahead and put it that way. I've tasted_ snow_ better than what's on those trays."

"They sounded like they were going to let you see your husband –"

"Here," she interrupted, "why don't I worry about me, and you worry about you? Funny how simple things can be."

"He's trying to be helpful," Gary rolled his eyes. "Though it's a waste of breath on you."

"_You_ really need to take my advice," she chuckled, "you've got problems coming your way."

"Oh, yeah?"

"What, do you think Mars is going to come down here bearing balloons and cake? I'm still trying to figure out what she's doing here."

"What do you mean?" He narrowed his eyes.

"Don't you know where we are?" She said. Gary didn't. It was Misty's voice, quiet and plain and very much unlike her that answered.

"Sinnoh."

* * *

It was some time before Misty spoke again. The exact time, in his new method of deducing time, was eleven meals later, and after the mysterious harsh woman had been lead up the stairs to the bathroom, leaving he, Misty and Salvador alone.

"I think I know her."

Gary looked immediately. Misty for once seemed half-alive, staring up the empty staircase, which was at least a change from staring blankly at the floor.

"What?" He asked quickly, like the moment would pass if he didn't seize more conversation from her. "Who?"

"The woman," she spoke softly. Even in the silence he had to strain to hear her. "I recognize her."

"Is she talking?" Salvador asked, but Gary shushed him instantly.

"We hardly ever see her," he reminded her skeptically. He had only ever caught quick glimpses of her passing up and down the stairwell, and all that had revealed to him was that she had hair that fell down to her lower back.

"It's her voice," she looked troubled. "Her laugh, really."

"Listen, it's great that you're talking and all right now," he tried to pursue a different topic, "really, it is. But when are you going to tell me what they did to you?"

"I need to talk to her."

"Misty," he demanded more sternly. "What happened?"

The door at the top of the stairs shut behind someone, and everyone fell silent, the sound of heels descending into the dungeon the only remaining noise.

"I've heard that somebody down here has been missing me."

Gary could have answered Mars, as he knew it was her. But inside he was boiling with resentment that she had come just when Misty might have opened up to him, and even more so that it wouldn't have happened without his request.

"Well?" She trained her eyes on Gary. "I'm in a good mood today, lucky for you. I'll humor you."

Gary took a breath.

"I want to know where my umbreon is," he began. "I want to know where my grandfather is and why you have him, and I want to know what happened in Saffron City."

"No Ash Ketchum?" She raised her eyebrows. "Fair enough – he hasn't asked about you, either."

Gary hid the confusion that this caused.

"But on to your…_priorities_," she purred in a knowing tone that mocked him, "your grandfather is fine. He's too valuable for any of us to play with. As for your mutt, she's nothing special. She'll be given the same treatment as all the pokemon who go through us do."

"Don't you fucking touch her," he snapped.

"Potty mouth," she tutted. "I'll put in a bad word for you with the doctor. He's itching for a second go at you anyway."

"Who?" He demanded, but she was leaving. "Wait! What happened in Saffron? Why the hell did you take us all the way to Sinnoh?"

She paused with her back to him.

"There was an accident. No worries – your grandfather is going to take care of it."

He felt a cold chill spread across his skin as she left them alone again.

* * *

"This is quite the setback."

"You cannot possibly be surprised."

Administrator Jupiter side-eyed him quickly. Samuel Oak could tell that the way he was addressing the situation did not sit well with her, but he was not going to be intimidated by this man with blank eyes and an emotionless voice as she so obviously was.

"No. But I am without a, how would you say…'Plan B'. So that is where you come in, Professor."

"Unfortunately," Oak shook his head, holding a steady gaze, "that is not where I come in at all."

There was a moment of silence. The unperturbed man might have shrugged, had he not looked too stiff-shouldered to do so, and Jupiter sent him another annoyed and nervous glance. Oak felt not the least bit worried.

"There is something I will show you then. Bring him in, Tom."

Oak was quite sure that when he turned away from the esteemed-looking desk that he would find his grandson behind him, possibly in some disheveled state. He braced himself for the sight. It would be a shock, he was sure, but he was also sure that Gary would not be harmed in whatever show was going to be displayed before him. It was all scare tactics. He prepared mentally before facing whatever had just come through the door behind him.

He had not prepared at all for what he did see.

Ash Ketchum – it was so clearly Ash Ketchum that Oak did not require more than second to place the face, though he was many years older – dragged into the room, handcuffed and gagged, curled into a fetal position that he seemed physically unable to leave. He did not acknowledge any person in the room, and looked past them as if he were alone.

"Surprised?" The older man named Tom grinned, revealing several missing teeth. Oak was sure that his expression was giving away his pity and fear, but he couldn't bring himself to disguise it. He had not expected this. He had no guard prepared against this. He put his hands in his pockets and swallowed thickly. To his surprise, the normally cold Admin Jupiter to his right did not look happy about the turn of events.

"Meet your new coworker," the man behind the desk said without inflection. Tom, who looked of similar age to the professor, held out a hand to shake. Oak took it curtly with an expression of slight revulsion.

"Charon," he spoke, but Oak made no attempt to introduce himself. Frankly he had never been less enthused to meet anyone's acquaintance in his life.

"What is it that you're hoping I will do, then?" Oak spoke, but directed it to the man at his back. He couldn't keep his eyes from the sight of the younger man panting heavily on the golden carpeted floor, trying so desperately to open his eyes but quiet obviously too disoriented to. He could pick out parts of this now-adult face that reminded him of Delia Ketchum, and yet other features that had grown to resemble someone known to neither of them. "It must be important, for you to drag this poor man in to threaten me with."

"However you perceive it, he is merely here as a method of persuasion."

"You would like me to arrange the recapture of your lake legendary, I imagine?"

He could not imagine a less pleasant job, but caught himself before thinking so. After all, moments before he had been prepared for what he had thought would be an expected unpleasant sight, and yet Galactic had managed to catch him off guard. Perhaps there was something more unfortunate expected of him in the long run.

"It is Uxie that I require most pressingly."

"Did you learn nothing when the lake trio destroyed your headquarters in Saffron City?" Oak made no attempts to sound friendly.

"I learned much more than you would think, Professor. Such as removing these legendaries from their native nation will only delay their eventual revenge, not deter it. And so this time we will capture it, do our work swiftly, and release it before the attack comes."

Ash let out a muffled groan. Oak noticed that the back of his shirt was dotted with sparse blood, and he made a fist in either pocket.

"I'll participate," he said solemnly, "when I see this man has been treated civilly."

"That is not how things will be run any longer, Professor." The man drummed his fingers on the desk. He did not sound irritated or rushed. "You will participate or he will be treated worse. Fail to perform your duties adequately and your grandson will be treated as equally poor. Unlike him, this man is easily dispensable. Choose to leave your assignment and he will be dispatched."

Oak was silent. The wrinkles in his forehead deepened.

"Why don't you show him for a moment, Tom, how things can improve for Mr. Ketchum."

The older man removed a device from his lab coat and leaned down to stick Ash in the side with it. He screamed through the gag and jolted violently until a second late when the tazer was removed.

Oak paled. A bead of sweat rolled down his temple.

"No more," he instructed shakily. "That will not be necessary."

"Very well then. Tom will see you tomorrow to begin your work. Administrator, do take him back to his quarters."

The man did not seem pleased to hear that Oak had agreed to work for him. He did not seem anything, at any time throughout their meeting, and it unnerved Samuel Oak more than he wanted to think. He tried not to look at Ash Ketchum's face as he was lead from the room, lest he think of anything that would cloud his brain of good judgment, like the man's mother or he as a child playing with his grandson. He could see enough of that abused man's face in his mind – at eight, ten, fifteen years old.

"You should hope that my grandson never has the misfortune of seeing that," he spoke steadily as Jupiter led him down the hall. She looked nauseous. "I know that you enjoy your games, but Gary will not be playing along should he ever witness what I have today."

"Oak," she commanded shakily, "shut the hell up."

Oak obliged. He had nothing more to say to her.


	25. Old and New Faces

**Disclaimer: I don't own Pokemon.**

* * *

Ash rolled uncomfortably, but hardly moved at all. His body simply would not obey the commands he was trying to issue. His tongue felt too thick for his mouth and his eyelids too heavy to open. It felt like someone had set a dozen bricks on his chest, and every breath was a fight. He had no concept of where he was or who he might be with, but he was aware of faint mumblings around him. He tried to mutter Gary's name, but nothing verbalized.

_Where am I where is he-_

"Sure – love to –"

Bits of words were making it through to his ears, but he couldn't decipher their meanings.

"She is – no, not surprised – of course –"

Something cool and damp rested on his forehead. He let out a sigh, realizing what a burning hot temperature he was.

"She won't – no, won't be necessary –"

More and more of the sentences floating in the blackness around him were making sense. He was coming out of the fog, but as he did some instinct warned him to expect to go under again. They would never let him go. He would be lost in this half-consciousness forever.

_Gary Pikachu Misty Brock –_

"G-Gary," he stammered weakly, hardly hearing his own voice. Someone hushed him and he felt a similar coldness on his neck. His forced his eyes open the smallest amount, keeping them steady with all his focus. When the man standing over him did not sport blue eyes and a familiar face, he felt confused. Hadn't he been sure that Gary would be here?

_Where is here?_

"Wh-what -?"

"Shh," came the voice again. "You're safer here."

Safer? This didn't reassure him. He tried to sit upright, but the man urged him to lie back flat.

"Are you thirsty?" The voice asked. He nodded absentmindedly, blinking slowly to clear his vision. The room around him spun, and sat up despite the other man to take in his surroundings. He hardly had the chance to before he caught clear sight of a brightly colored ponytail. Even from the back he recognized who this person was instantly.

"You," he stuttered, still not entirely free from the effects of the drugs, "you, y-you –"

"Hey," the man was beside him again, and he swore that not enough time had passed for him to have made it back over with a bowl of water in hand. His perception of time was still skewed. And why was water being offered to him in a bowl instead of a glass? "I know it's strange, but there's nothing to worry about."

"No –" he tried to insist, "no, you – Team Rocket. You d-disbanded."

James frowned. "Team Rocket did disband. Thanks to you. But that doesn't mean we stopped existing."

"But..."

He found that he didn't have anything else to add. He trailed off, feeling exhausted mentally and physically, his head pounding as he stared into the face of someone who had been at his heels for years throughout his teens, who had actively tried to make his pokemon journey hell whenever possible. Finally he took in the place surrounding him – an ordinary cell, like the one he had been held in years ago, with two cots and not much else.

"What the hell," he panted, "are you doing in here with me."

"That's a long story."

Ash mustered up his strength and lunged at the other man from his bed, knocking him from his kneeling position back against the floor. But he had grossly underestimated the older man, who when he brought back his fist to swing flipped him and turned the tables. He was now caught underneath his cellmate, wide-eyed.

"Do you think_ I_ want to be in here any more than you do?" James spoke harshly but quietly, not letting him up. The hall had come alive with the hoots of other inmates, most of who were begging for the fight to escalate. "You're not going to cause me any trouble because you hold a grudge."

"A grudge?" He balked. "You _stalked_ me for years!"

James got to his feet, and Ash gave himself a moment on the ground to catch his breath.

"It was nothing personal."

Ash could have screamed. He was flabbergasted. The noise in the adjacent cells was dying down, but he couldn't help but wonder if it would be worth trying for a round two.

"Nothing personal," he laughed with sour disbelief, "do you know how many times you put my pokemon in harms' way? How many times you put me and my friends in danger?"

"It was an assignment," he sighed.

"You chose to take it."

"I'd like to see you argue with the Boss." James snorted, and Ash made a sound of disgust as he stood up.

"You still call him that? Pathetic."

The older man narrowed his eyes.

"Yes, actually. Besides, he could be listening."

"In a Galactic cell?" Ash shouted exasperatedly, throwing his arms out. "Last I heard, your boss had a cell of his own!"

"It's not that simple."

"Well, don't bother trying to explain it to me," he dismissed, retreating to his cot, where he rested his elbows on his knees. "I hope a life of crime has paid off for you now that you're locked up."

"I'm not locked up because I was a criminal," James had also returned to his own bed. "I'm reformed."

"Sure you are."

"Alright," James shrugged, laying back and putting either hand behind his head. "If only criminals ends up in here, what did a goody-goody such as yourself do?"

"Go to hell," Ash snapped. "Why_ are_ you in here then?"

"Family matters."

"I'm sure that's one hell of a story," he tried to picture the ex-Rocket as part of a functional family. He could sooner imagine Misty forgiving him than he could imagine that. "Family of the year."

"And you came from a white picket fence couple with two point one kids," came the sarcastic retort.

"You don't know anything about where I come from."

James didn't answer, but he flashed a smug look like irritated him. Ash put his head in his hands and sighed heavily. He had never in his wildest nightmares pictured something like this happening – locked away by an evil organization with a former member of a separate evil organization that he had thwarted years ago.

God, he had a headache.

"Where's the rest of your crew?" He decided to prod further. It wasn't like he had anything better to do in the empty cell. "Have a falling out after your crime lord was locked away?"

James held up his left hand and wiggled the fingers. At first, Ash didn't understand.

"Does it look like it?"

He blinked a few times before noticing the gold band around his left ring finger.

"What – wait," he was so caught off guard that he forgot how angry and defensive he needed to be at his cellmate, "your married? You married - _what?"_

"Surprise, surprise," James said dully.

"And what about that annoying talking –"

James hurled one of the very few objects in the room that could be thrown – a pillow, which smacked into his shoulder.

"Shut it," he commanded. "We're not going to discuss that."

Ash didn't pursue it, but now his curiosity was peaked. To his own chagrin he noted that if he were civil towards James, the other man might know information that could prove helpful to him. The last thing that Ash held as a memory was that of his previous room shared with Gary shaking, and grunts pouring in and slapping a tissue over his mouth and nose. Now he was in some unknown location with more aches than he could count, and housed with a man that had been charged with the task of stealing his pikachu over a dozen years ago.

His chest ached. Pikachu.

"Where are we?"

James took his time answering, fiddling with his ring.

"Sinnoh," he stated, "northern Sinnoh, I'd guess."

"What makes you say that?" He took a breath, concealing the nerves rising in his gut. He was not even close to Kanto or Johto now.

"It's snowing outside," he explained. "It wouldn't be snowing this early into fall if we weren't far north."

Ash ran a hand through his hair.

"How do you know it's snowing?"

"I went outside."

_He says it like it's just that easy,_ he thought irritably, eyes wandering all over the barred walls of the cell.

"Well, how did you leave?"

"Good behavior," James stated in a bored tone.

"So if they let you out for that," he mused, thinking of Gary and Misty, "do they let you…see anyone?"

"No. They'd let me see my wife, but she's not the most cooperative," he was smiling halfheartedly.

Ash tried to picture Gary being rewarded for good behavior. He couldn't see it either. He leaned back with a sigh and contemplated the situation – it looked both confusing and close to hopeless. He had had some idea of how to act prior to the move, but he had not seen a shift to Sinnoh coming at all. He still had no idea where his pokemon might be, and now he was even less sure if they were even in the same nation as he was. Now he didn't even have Gary close to him – God, what if the brunette was still back wherever they had been before?

On top of that, he wasn't exactly thrilled with his cell mate situation.

"I hope you don't expect me to be friendly with you," he clarified harshly. "You tried to make my life hell."

"Funny," James replied curtly, "you did the same for me without even having to try."

Ash rolled over and ignored him. He had never done a thing to Team Rocket before they singled him out, and he was in no mood to argue about it.

* * *

May had not spoken to her father in what seemed like ages, and it was coming a lot more easily to her than she had expected. She had not so much as even allowed him the courtesy of explaining his side of the story to her. She simply wasn't interested. She knew one thing and that one thing was enough – that Norman Maple had traded Gary and Misty into dangerous corrupt police in exchange for her.

"He meant well, you know."

May rolled her eyes.

"I don't care. This isn't about him. It's about the people of Kanto."

"You're awfully passionate all of a sudden. Refreshing to see you all worked up over something other than your hair."

May gritted her teeth. Her friend could be a total pain, but she knew it had been a smart move to call him. Brendan Birch was a skilled trainer and the son of an esteemed professor. The Birch family had nothing close to the notoriety of the Oaks, but it was the best May had at her disposal. The whole 'family friends' deal essentially had him tied up in whatever she needed help with at any time, and vice versa, because whenever they fought their fathers both heard about it in no time. She remembered how last time they had argued, the two men had staged a meeting place for them to just happen to run into one another and make up.

_Old men with nothing better to do,_ she rolled her eyes at the memory. She certainly hoped that she would never be so bored that she had to meddle in her kid's social lives.

"Somebody has to be, okay?" She said, recalling her blaziken. The tall fire-type had been taking a breather from sparring with Brendan's aggron in May's yard. It had been quite some time since she had had the time to enjoy the comforts of staying in her own house.

"You're not doing half bad," the slightly taller man shrugged. "The townspeople are all over you."

It was true. Since hearing Gary and Misty's stories, Petalburg City had been caught up in a wave of anti-Galactic sentiment. The abduction of the pair had only made things worse, since May had gone quite public with the truth, much to her father's dismay. The city had been in social uproar, and it had been May who had reined them in.

"How soon are you heading to Johto?" He asked. May paused and looked down at the grass, unsure of exactly how to answer. She knew that she wanted to head to Johto and meet up with Ash and company again – she had not heard from them since their split, and she had to admit she was both curious and worried. She had meant to leave earlier than this and catch them in Goldenrod City, since now she knew of the small Galactic set-up there, but the city had her tied down. She needed to give her father's people a constructive outlet for their anger, and if she took a small party with her to Johto she was certain it would pay off.

"Soon, within the next few days."

"Don't worry about here," Brendan offered her a smile. "I can take care of the city."

And that was why she had called him there. It wasn't that Petalburg needed a pair of eyes when she wasn't around – it had her father – it was just that she didn't entirely trust him at the moment, and for her own peace of mind she had to have someone keeping Team Galactic out of her hometown.

_I don't think they'll be back here,_ she told herself, _now that they have Gary and Misty. But…_

She thought of Kanto and Sinnoh, and how pokemon training was banned. She couldn't imagine her native nation going through the same.

Suddenly, something cast a large shadow over the pair of them, and her hair swept up around her face as something flew overhead. Brendan adjusted his knit hat as May watched the figure land a few yards away.

"Who's that?"

May didn't know, and so she could not answer. The man was dismounting a large reptilian pokemon, a cape billowing out behind him. The pair exchanged a glance as the man began to approach.

"Hello?" Brendan called out. May had the name of the stranger's pokemon on the tip of her tongue – some kind of dragon-type, she suspected native to Kanto. On second thought, what was a Kanto indigenous pokemon doing landing in her yard?

"Uh," she articulated, "who are you, exactly?"

The man was close enough now for her to pick out little details, and he halted a few feet from them. He stood perhaps a bit taller than Brendan, his stark red hair windswept from flight and with unfriendly eyes.

"Are you -?" Brendan suddenly cut himself short. "Dragonmaster Lance?"

May stared. When the imposing man nodded, she failed to understand how this had cleared up the matter at all.

"Can I get an actual name?"

Brendan looked at her like she had slapped him.

"This is the Champion of Kanto, May."

She inhaled sharply, and the next few thoughts in her head came in a quick flurry. The first was to once-over this Lance character again – yes, he was drop dead gorgeous, and how could she have missed this before? Then the awe of being before a current-standing Champion sunk in – not like with Gary, who charmed her with stories of the past. This man was a thing of the _now._

Then it occurred to her that he had a dragon-type with him. What was a Kanto citizen doing with pokemon? Did Galactic make exceptions for Champion?

_I bet that is written in some really fine print._

"I apologize for the intrusion," his voice was low, and she kept herself from openly swooning by sheer force of will – and maybe to avoid Brendan teasing her in front of such an authority figure. "I've heard some interesting rumors that require clarification."

"Anything we can help with," Brendan offered, and on second thought she decided he might not poke fun at her if she lost her cool. He looked perhaps more awestruck than she felt.

"Where is the gym leader of this city?"

"That's –"

"Me," May interrupted suddenly. She saw Brendan glance at her skeptically out of the corner of her eye, but she didn't look, finding it imperative that she hold the Champion's gaze throughout her lie.

_Is it really a lie? I mean, my father is the gym leader. I'm practically running the show in this city recently. It's really only a small fib._

"What can I do for you?" She offered her best authoritative voice, but somehow it still seemed like the Champion was looking right through her.

"Right," he sounded uninterested, "very well. Has there been any foreign activity in your city as of late?"

Her city. May Maple's city. It had a nice ring to it. But back to the question – oh God, Kanto's Champion was in her yard!

_Focus, May!_

"Could you maybe be more specific?" She chose as her answer. She hadn't yet decided if she was going to announce Team Galactic's presence to this man. Shouldn't he know, anyway? They were Kanto's reformed government.

When his eyes burned into hers in a way that was nothing short of intimidating, she felt a twinge of regret at being so vague.

"No."

It became instantly clear to her, through his body language, his tone, and his eyes that the Champion knew exactly who had been here and that he wasn't interested in making small talk. For whatever reason, Lance was not happy.

"I, uh," she struggled to cover, "well –"

"Things," he cut her off in a tone that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up, "that the Hoenn League would not be very fond of should they ever find out about."

He had practically just said it. It was so obvious that he wanted to hear her admit to Team Galactic being in Petalburg that she could practically feel it – or maybe he wanted to hear that they had not? In any case, she knew the incident that he was referring to, and something about him made her very suspicious of being honest with him.

"Yes," Brendan interrupted the silence, making May's eyes go wide. "Team Galactic was here. How long ago, May?"

May's mouth went dry. Not only had her friend just blurted out the information she had been debating keeping to herself so without consulting her, but he had given away her name, too! Not that, if this Champion did bother finding out the real gym leader of Petalburg's name, he would ever think a girl was named Norman…

_That's not the point!_

"Really now?" Lance didn't allow her to answer. "That's very informative. Thank you for your cooperation."

Without any further explanation he was off. May rounded on Brendan slowly with an open mouth and a betrayed stare.

"What?" He exclaimed.

"We don't know if we can trust him!" She cried out. "You told him everything he wanted to know!"

"What's wrong with that?" He said defensively. "He's the Champion of Kanto!"

She threw her hands up and stormed off. Truly, May couldn't explain why exactly she felt so suspicious. She had no good reason not to trust the leader of a nation, even if it weren't her own nation. But was Lance even the leader in Kanto anymore? It had become a sort of unspoken understanding that Team Galactic was not just the broad scope of government, but the head honchos as well. They made the rules and both Sinnoh and Kanto now followed them. She hadn't heard of either nation's Elites doing anything in years – did Sinnoh even have Elites anymore?

"You need to take a damn break," Brendan called after her, "maybe Johto isn't a good idea for you. You're so invested in this you're getting paranoid! We live in Hoenn, May! This isn't even our battle!"

Maybe she was getting paranoid. But _she_ had been across the desk from Administrator Mars' screaming face and she had been phased through by a creepy ghost-type. Brendan had no idea what this battle was all about. Maybe she didn't either – but she wanted to help. For the first time in years, maybe ever, May Maple felt invested in something that went below the skin.

And no matter how dreamy he was, she had a bad feeling about Champion Lance.

* * *

The room was occupied by six people – four men, and two women. One of the men was seated in a makeshift high-chair, a metal attachment acting as both a barrier to prevent him getting out of it and to provide him a desk with which to eat from, though what he was eating was strange – baby food, though the man looked to be around twenty years old.

"He's been making improvements," the eldest of those in the room was reading from a stack of papers in his hands, "but it doesn't appear that he'll regain any prior knowledge."

Three of the others looked back and forth between each other. The taller of the two women looked troubled, while the shorter and the man looked surprised. The final member of the group didn't look any sort of emotion.

"That is unfortunate," he said, though he did not sound like he thought it was, "however, this is a learning experience. We now know without any doubt what their powers can do."

"So," one of the women cleared her throat, "he's like a toddler?"

"He cannot recall anything that he has ever learned," the man in the lab coat explained, "that extends throughout every aspect of his learning, not just his social life. He has no knowledge of the function of a bathroom, and has no concept of what is safe to eat and what is not food, and so on."

"Who's going to care for him?" Said a uniformed man, whose blue hair rose in two peaks.

Then the emotionless man swiftly raised his hand from his hip and before any of his four followers could guess what might happen, he shot the subject in the high-chair through the chest. The redheaded woman gasped uncharacteristically, and all four flinched. Blood spattered behind him onto the metal, the helpless man now slumped over into his smeared baby food.

"No one."

The rap at the door startled all of them once more, besides the man with the gun. He motioned to the entrance and it was the blue-haired administrator who hurried forward to open it, only a sliver, so that the party on the other side might not see the sight in the room.

"This meeting is confidential, between Leader Cyrus and – Champion?"

"I have questions that I want answered," Champion Lance was thin-lipped and fuming, "I demand to speak with Cyrus, and I want to see where Gary Oak is being held. Now."

Inside, Team Galactic's leader had already heard the outburst.

"All of you, out," he commanded in a level voice, and the administrators headed for the door. Then, he snapped his fingers. "On second thought, one of you will need to clean this mess."

He motioned towards the corpse still strapped into the chair. Naturally, the scientist stepped forward to volunteer, but Leader Cyrus shook his head.

"Annie," he began, and the redheaded woman cringed. Slowly she turned back towards him, as if the movements physically pained her. "I'd prefer you for the job."

"Yes, sir," came the reply, and once the room was void of all administrators and blood stains, Cyrus welcomed Champion Lance inside.


	26. Confidential

Sorry for the slight delay guys, I had a crazy week.

**Disclaimer: I don't own Pokemon.**

* * *

Gary could tell that he had lost weight. His body ached from hardly leaving his place in the dungeon, and whenever he emerged to use the bathroom the light burned his eyes. And yet the thing that bothered him the most was that Ash Ketchum had not so much as asked about him.

He was no closer to understanding his situation than he had been at the start. He still didn't know where Umbreon was, or if she were safe, and the same went for his grandfather. He didn't know what Galactic wanted with the old man either. He hadn't the slightest clue where Ash could be or why he wasn't being held with the rest of them, and he still had no idea what had happened in Saffron City to prompt their relocation into Sinnoh. The unknown was driving him mad.

Suddenly, the light in the basement went on. Gary hadn't even been aware that there were working lights down there, and all of the prisoners immediately screwed their eyes shut and protested. His eyes stung and watered for a few moments until he felt that he could squint – and to his surprise someone very unexpected was standing at the foot of the dusty stone stairs.

"Oh my God," Misty gasped, but she wasn't directing her attentions towards the visitor. She had her eyes trained across the room at the nameless prisoner, who was finally free for all to see – a woman with long red hair and blue eyes. "_Jessie -?"_

"Gary Oak."

Gary wasn't paying any attention to the other prisoner or Misty's revelation, which meant nothing to him. He was preoccupied with the hard eye contact being made from across the room, where the man was now advancing towards him. He felt a strange combination of both relief and nerves – logically, his appearance meant good things, but somehow Gary didn't feel that this man was happy to see him.

"Lance," he stammered. He could only imagine how he might look. Dried blood had caked to his skin and he had not been offered any new clothes during his imprisonment. He imagined that he had looked better traveling throughout Mt. Silver. "I'm so glad you're –"

His greeting was choked off as the Champion swept forward and closed his hands around Gary Oak's neck. Misty shrieked and Salvador protested from across the room, but Lance ignored them both as they struggled against their chains.

"Don't you address me," he growled. His hands were not wrapped tightly enough to be cutting off air, but Gary had his head pressed firmly against the wall in an attempt to distance himself between the other man now in his face. "Do you have any idea the grief you've caused me?"

"What are you –"

"You've put my nation through hell!" He shouted. "Do you have no sense of responsibility, Oak? Did you not think for a second what Kanto would go through before you set these gears in motion?"

Lance looked like a man possessed. His eyes were bloodshot and stubble was collecting on his jaw. Gary wracked his brain, but simply did not see where the other man was coming from. What the hell could he possibly be blamed for in this situation? He was the one chained to the wall!

"Lance," he struggled, deciding that he still might be able to get through to his old coworker, "get me out of here."

Lance went wide-eyed like Gary had suggested something outlandish. Then his face contorted into an expression of rage.

"Get you out of here?" He hissed. "Get you out? Is that your cry for help, Oak, but you're too weak to even say the word? Instead here you are, filthy and beaten and still trying to give _me_ orders?"

"Lance, we worked together -" but Gary's reasoning was cut short.

"Oh, we never once worked together, Oak," Lance spat. "I worked _for _you, something that you made quite clear."

The confusion he felt was slowly becoming clearer, and if he had allowed himself to Gary would have felt the beginnings of regret toil in his stomach. No, he had never treated Lance as his equal during his time as Champion, but he had never expected that he would need his help either.

"Why'd you do it," he whispered, studying every inch of Lance's enraged face. He hadn't seen this man in years – not since he had relinquished his position as Champion. He could distinctly remember the smug look on the redhead's face when Gary had offered it back. He knew now, just like he had known then, that Lance had not been the only Elite to support his decision because he was Gary's friend. He had done it so readily because he had wanted his title back and nothing more – and at that moment, with Lance hissing in his face Gary could see more than ever that there was no sense of camaraderie between them and never had been. "Why did you let Galactic do this to Kanto?"

Gary winced as Lance tightened his grip.

"How dare you sit here and criticize me." He continued. "Why did _you_ do it, Oak? Why did you abandon your city and betray your nation? All of Kanto is wondering where you are. Did you think the most notorious gym leader in Kanto could disappear and no one would wonder where he went? Viridian City is a mess. Cerulean City is a mess," he glared at Misty sharply, "Pewter City is a mess. The nation is afraid. Where are these people who are supposed to be their leaders?"

"We're trying to fix what you let happen," he answered back, but Lance tore away from him and looked ready to rip at his own hair.

"No," he seemed to be trying to rein in his own anger, "no, Oak, you know that isn't it. This was selfish of you, just like all your plays are selfish. You're not here to make things better for anyone else. If you had been thinking of Kanto you would have stayed in Viridian City and took care of it how you pledged to when you took that position as gym leader. You wouldn't have taken off into the wilderness and tried to raise your own little army of vigilante_ footsoldiers!"_

"I have no idea what you're talking about," he panted. Lance for a brief moment had his rantings under control, and evened out his voice for a further explanation.

"The past few weeks, I have been all over Kanto. I made appearances in Viridian, Cerulean and Pewter to assure those people that they would be alright, because they have no damn leaders to tell them that now. I stopped in Saffron City because half of it _exploded_, and now I have to explain to four different cities that Kanto is not falling apart when I have no real evidence that this is the truth. I trekked all the way to Hoenn to find that you had been there and that you have uproar started in Petalburg City with some little tramp masquerading as their leader. Once again," he stressed, "_I_ am leading where you chose not to."

"So what happened in Saffron, Lance?"

The Champion didn't reply. He could hear somewhere in the room water dripping repetitively. The silence would have carried on had Gary not mustered up a chuckle.

"You don't know, do you?"

"And I suppose you do?" He snapped back.

"No," he started laughing harder now, unable to hold back the torrent, "no, I have no idea what happened. But here you are, telling me how much of a great and noble leader you are, and how you're picking up my slack all over your nation – and you don't even know what's going on in it. You're not the leader, Lance, you're the figurehead. You're a pretty face with a big reputation and a goddamn cape. Team Galactic are the leaders – you're their pawn."

"They fall under me!" He shouted furiously, pointing at his chest. "They are below my authority,_ I_ am the Champion!"

"You're the Champion because_ I_ stepped down," Gary smirked, and then felt the heavy impact of Lance's boot in his gut, doubling him over.

"Talk all you'd like, Oak," Lance sneered, pulling something from his belt. It was a pokeball. "You chose the wrong time to leave your post. Because pokemon possession is illegal for you now – and as the Champion, I've kept every single one of mine quite legally."

"You're pathetic."

"You should be thanking me," he stepped away, "I'll be cleaning up the mess you left for years to come. A trial would only make the situation more volatile – most citizens of Kanto have no idea you're being charged for anything. We had to cover up the incident at Mt. Silver's base as a rogue pokemon attack."

"A trial 'would'?" He narrowed his eyes as Lance turned his back and headed for the stairs. "What do you mean, would? I am getting a trial, Lance!"

Lance ignored him, ascending up the stairs. Administrator Jupiter had told him that herself, hadn't she? Then again, he had been held quite a long time for someone merely awaiting trial. Who was to say that Jupiter hadn't lied? Why were they keeping him here after all? His heartbeat quickened.

"You had to go all the way to Hoenn to find out where I was?" He called after him, his voice rising. "You still don't know what happened in Saffron? And you think you're in charge, Lance? You're a puppet! Galactic doesn't tell you _anything!"_

"Gary," Misty said gently, and he realized that he was straining against his chains, rubbing the skin even rawer. The door at the top of the stairs shut, but the light flickered only slightly with the slam.

Gary closed his eyes for a moment, leaning back against the wall with anger and dismay. When he reopened them and scanned the newly lit room - dust particles strewn up into the air and dirty concrete - he caught sight of the man sharing the cell with him for the first time. Nothing but the man's appearance made it to his brain.

"Salvador," he breathed, "Salvador Harrison? Are you Brock's brother?"

The resemblance was uncanny. God, Gary didn't see now how he hadn't remembered before! Of course Brock had a brother named Salvador, hadn't he heard the older man talk for hours about his siblings?

"Yeah," he smiled faintly. "That's me."

"What the hell are you doing in here?" Gary asked, feeling almost as blindsided as he had when he had seen his grandfather.

"What the hell are _you_ doing in here?" Misty echoed, but her question was directed at the redheaded woman who she had identified as 'Jessie'. It was beginning to hit him – Misty knew this woman?

"That's a long story," both of them said in unison, and all four exchanged confused glances.

"Get started," Gary commanded. "And 'Jessie' – you first."

* * *

Professor Oak tapped his pen across the manila folder in a worried fashion. He could not bring himself to open it again, and instead studied the red stamped 'confidential' across the front. He had already been worried about their plan to capture Uxie of the lake trio, and now he had this eating at the back of his mind.

_"Do make sure to keep those contents confidential,"_ his coworker Tom Charon had instructed him. _"Leader Cyrus will not be happy if those details get out to just anyone."_

So he had been handpicked for the job, and now he was too nervous to delve into it at all. He was alone in the lab where he and Charon had been working, test tubes and equipment of all kinds littered around the room, a large cylindrical tube in the corner which Oak surmised was designed to hold any of the lake trio should they come into Galactic's possession again. With a heavy sigh, he opened the folder in front of him.

_Because you are reading this now, I must assume that I have given you express permission to do so. Though I warn you, have you not been granted such, it would be wise not to pursue any further._

_The Distortion World is a world opposite our own, where space and time do not flow as they do here. To come and go from the Distortion World and our own is an ability exclusive to one being – Giratina._

"Madness," Oak whispered to himself, but his curiosity was peaked and he continued on.

_However, to harness the potential of Giratina and the Distortion World, one must complete a series of steps. This is where you will be of assistance. Our first objective is simple. Obtain the Red Chain._

_The Red Chain is an object created only through the pieces held separately by the lake trio legendaries. By this time, we may be in possession of one, two, or perhaps no piece at all of the Chain. At this time it would be beneficial for you to direct yourself to the main lab, should you not already be there. On the control panel for the lake trio holding pod, there is a yellow button. It is the only yellow button. I advise you to push that now, as it will assist you in the remainder of your readings._

Hesitantly, Oak got to his feet. He made his way over to the holding pod and studied the control panel for a moment before confirming that there was indeed only one yellow button. It did not flash, nor was it large – perhaps purposely downplayed. Nonetheless, he pressed it.

Something popped out from beneath the control panel, causing him to jump briefly. To his relief, it was only a drawer, which had come unlocked at the press of the button. However what was inside worried him immensely.

Three red gems, strung together in a short chain. Hurrying back to the desk he snatched the document and returned with it, reading on. He thought for a moment to pick up the glittering red jewels, but he was not inclined to touch them with his bare hands. Reading onward there were exact dimensions of how long and wide the complete chain would be – with a sigh of relief he realized that it was not complete. There was only one piece of the chain present.

_The Red Chain, when completed with each piece obtained from each of the three lake legendaries, is the key to taming the power of space and time – of Palkia and Dialga – and by consequence opening the Distortion World._

Professor Oak jumped when the door opened at the far end of the lab and slammed the drawer containing the chain shut again. He listened cautiously as footsteps made their way through the winding shelves and desks before the newcomer was face to face with him.

"Jupiter," he stammered, brow furrowed. He had a grip on the folder like letting go of it would be the end of him. The violet-haired woman crossed her arms and tapped her foot.

"Come on, old man," she beckoned, "it's time to head back to your quarters."

"Where is Tom?" He asked carefully. Jupiter never retrieved him from the lab. To his knowledge, only he and Tom Charon were permitted inside the room.

"With Leader Cyrus," she explained dully. "I was told that I could easily take care of transporting you back to your room. You're not half bad at following orders – besides, what could be in here that I don't already know about?"

"So you know," Oak stammered suddenly, in a gush of illogical fear and disbelief, "what your leader is planning to do? How we will most likely all perish if he succeeds?"

Admin Jupiter blinked.

"Cyrus may have plans to expand his hold over other nations," she shrugged, "but I don't see how that equates to any of his followers dying."

_She doesn't know._

The weight of that realization hit him like a ton of bricks. He grabbed onto the counter nearby for stability and felt his legs weaken beneath him, lowering him to the ground slowly. Administrator Jupiter was at his side surprisingly quickly.

"Hey," she had her arms around him and was shouldering him back to his feet. He noticed that for once her hands were nowhere near the gun on her hip. "What the hell is the matter with you, old man?"

He stared into her eyes. His mind was racing, and in a moment of questionable clarity he did not see a heartless Galactic administrator there – but a woman perhaps slightly older than his grandson, who was asking with honest concern if he was alright. Someone with a past, a family, friends and enemies.

But perhaps with no future.

"You're going to die if you continue to work for Team Galactic, Jupiter," he ignored her widened eyes as he spoke bluntly with her. "You'll have to take my word for it."

"What are you talking about?" She whispered, but he shook his head and refused to explain any further. Angrily, she let him go and without support he gripped the counter to steady himself as she made a grab for the folder.

"Jupiter, don't," he held out one hand. "You do not want to read that."

"Why not?" She demanded, clutching the folder and eyeing him harshly. "Are you going to tell me what exactly you mean, then?"

He was silent. How could he explain.

"Well?" She pressed on. "Normally I'd ignore little comments from my prisoners like that, Oak, but today I'm not really in any mood for it. How exactly is my life in any danger with Galactic?"

"Don't read it," he suggested quietly.

"Why not?" She accused. "Do you know what my day consisted of, Oak? I saw a fully grown man in a diaper and a high-chair. A man who didn't even know his own name, and I watched him be shot in the chest. All for the capture of Uxie. Then, Kanto's Champion showed up during our little meeting, and he was demanding to know what the hell we've been keeping from him which by the way, old man, is _everything."_

He was silent as she fumed on, gripping the manila folder tighter and tighter, her knuckles growing stark white.

"And now you're here acting like you've seen a ghost - are you going to tell me what is going on or do I have to have it worked out of you?"

He didn't answer her question.

"We showed the Champion your grandson to appease him. To make him feel like he had some semblance of control. It worked - it was so _easy_, Oak. It always is. To trick the masses into thinking they know what their government is doing. To con the Champion into thinking his title still means anything.

But now I've started to wonder. If it's this easy – who's to stop Cyrus from tricking us? What if the wool is being pulled over the eyes of his administrators and we're playing right into it alongside all of the saps I've fooled?"

"Jupiter," he warned, "don't open that folder."

"We're supposed to be capturing Uxie," she was biting her lip now, maybe to maintain her last thread of composure, "to seal our deal with another idiot Champion in Johto and keep her out of our hair. But I'm starting to think that there might be other reasons for capturing Uxie that our great leader is just _forgetting_ to mention to his supposed higher-ups."

"Jupiter," she flipped open the first page, "please."

"I'm going to ask you again," she shook steadily, "are you going to tell me what is going on?"

He held his tongue. In her hands she tore open the folder, breaking harsh eye contact with him only to direct her attention down at the document.

"_Because you are reading this now, I must assume that I have given you express permission to do so. Though I warn you, have you not been granted such, it would be wise not to pursue any further_." Jupiter glanced briefly at him from her reading, and then continued without hesitation. Her voice was shaking with anger. _"The Distortion World is a world opposite our own, where space and time do not flow as they do here. To come and go from the Distortion World and our own is an ability exclusive to one being – Giratina."_

Oak paled.

"So this is why we have you here," she realized slowly, closing the folder.

"Jupiter," he tried to reason with her still, "you must never let him know what you've read. Resign from your position and leave Sinnoh. Don't involve yourself any further."

"What do you care, Oak?" She laughed loudly, bitterly. "What have I done for you, besides keep you locked up and torture your grandson?"

His sympathy was stabbed through sharply at the mention of Gary.

"We made a deal."

"I haven't laid a hand on him," she clarified, "but that's not to say others haven't. But that man Cyrus had tortured in front of you? Ketchum? I had your grandson kept with him, because I've done my research, Oak, and frankly they couldn't have made it more obvious how much they rely on one another. I don't _have _to touch him to torture him. I house them together for one night and they can't keep their hands off each other. People like your grandson make my job too easy, Oak. He's built up this attitude that's supposed to intimidate me, but there's an endless list of things he can't live without. At the mention of his mutt he was willing to go anywhere with me. My coworker told him that his little boyfriend hadn't so much as asked about him, and we can all see how it's_ eating_ at him.

Normally, I'd like that. It's my job to make people suffer. But you - you've gotten into my head. I could hardly keep my lunch down when Cyrus had Ketchum tortured in front of you because of the look on your face, and with any other person your reaction would have been the highlight of my day. I'm starting to wonder if this is really worth it. Has Cyrus actually helped me as much as let him make me think? Or am I just another one of his pawns?"

"You remind me of him," Oak spoke quietly, and Jupiter almost missed it. She paused and blinked.

"Cyrus?"

"No," he corrected calmly, letting her outburst of information slowly seep into his brain, "my grandson."

She was completely still. Then with a crash she tossed the folder to the floor and sent papers flying.

"How could I remind you of him?" She demanded, pointing at her chest. "Didn't you hear me? I take advantage of him and the people he cares about. He's locked away and I walk free. I'm cunning, patient, heartless and he's – he's dodging bullets left and right and hoping for the best."

"You're not heartless," he took a steady breath, "you remind me of him because you are a good person who has put up walls to keep that a secret."

"I'm not a good person," she argued more tamely, "I've committed almost every crime that I've charged your grandson with."

"But you want to change," he added simply, as if this wrapped up the entire situation neatly.

"I don't want to change."

"Then why, Jupiter," he proposed, "did you just go through the trouble of telling me all of those very private things?"

She was silent. Her outburst had surprised him, but he was not about to express so, especially when she looked caught between destroying every glass object in the lab and breaking down into tears. He had never seen the administrator look so distraught and had never imagined that he would.

"I'm not going to be outsmarted by my so-called leader," she growled. "I'm taking you back to your quarters."

"Don't tell him, J –"

"Shut up!" She cried. "And clean these damn papers up before Charon sees them!"

He did so without argument. For now, he had nothing more to say to the administrator. He needed time to sort through the wealth of information he had stumbled into – between mention of Johto's Champion, reading about the Red Chain, and his grandson and Ash Ketchum, he certainly had enough to think about.


	27. The Clock Ticks

****Just a heads-up as we approach, but I have a sort of thing I do with all of my stories that near 100 reviews. The 100th reviewer can, if they so choose, request a Pokemon one-shot from me of basically anything. A specific pairing, fluff, angst, whoever you'd like! If you'd like it to be Footsoldiers based (thinking strategically could reveal backstory you don't know of...hm. Just a thought) that's fine, or basically any Pokemon universe you can think of. There are many characters in Pokemon I've never written, but I'd be willing to give it a shot if it's part of the request. Keep this in mind!

**Disclaimer: I don't own Pokemon.**

* * *

Administrator Jupiter stormed into Leader Cyrus' office without so much as a knock. Instead of being annoyed as one might assume, the blue-haired man simply looked up from his papers at his desk and stared at her stoically, as always. Nothing ever seemed to faze him.

"Luna," he addressed. "I would prefer prior warning next time you plan to pay me a visit. What do I owe the pleasure?"

He didn't particularly look pleased either, but she assumed he simply added it for formalities.

"Tell me about Giratina."

He was silent. She had expected him to react in some way – anger, fear, confusion. But he displayed none of those emotions. Did he ever display emotion? Now that she wracked her brain for some kind of example, she found that she could not recall a time where she had seen her leader particularly passionate in any way.

There was a silence filled only by Jupiter's heavy breathing. She wanted to look at anything else - the persian-skin rug, the dark wood underneath - but she was incapable of breaking the stare Cyrus had landed on her.

"Administrator," he sighed heavily, "you've had your nose where it should not have been."

"Tell me," she urged. "You're supposed to trust me. I am your administrator. I thought we were capturing Uxie to solidify our alliance with Karen. But that's not all we're doing it for, is it? Do you think I can't handle the truth? Haven't I proven myself to you?"

"You have been speaking with the professor about this, I imagine," he said flatly, ignoring her questions. "That is most unwise of him. Do you have any suggestions on how I might remind him of who is in control here, Luna? Consider it your final Galactic assignment. This is after all your area of expertise."

She swallowed thickly.

"My last assignment," she repeated shakily. "You're – firing me?"

"No," he pressed something on his watch. Jupiter recognized it instantly, and was not surprised when her own watch began to blink furiously red. Cyrus was summoning the other administrators. "I'm going to kill you."

She took a step towards the door when he removed a pistol from the drawer of his desk. She thought of the one at her hip, but didn't move to grab it. Her body felt too heavy to reach for it. Her heart was racing, but something was preventing her from sprinting from the room.

"You can't be serious," she began. Cyrus had removed a radio from his desk as well, and ordered something into it that she hardly paid any mind to. "After – after everything –"

"I'm quite serious," he confirmed. "But first you are going to see what is in store for the professor. Do you think I have not noticed your soft spot for him, Luna? Does he remind you of someone?"

She didn't answer, but she could feel herself shaking.

"It is a shame that you have allowed your emotions to compromise your work," he carried on. Through the door, Saturn came charging through, dragging a battered Ash Ketchum by the handcuffs and shoved him to his knees. "I had hoped that you might last long enough for me to cure you of that inconvenience."

She looked when Charon shoved the professor through the doorway and closed it behind them. They made brief eye contact which Jupiter broke – she pretended that she hadn't seen the true concern and sympathy in those aged eyes.

"Today you will learn something important, Professor," Cyrus began steadily, rising from his chair. He drew up the pistol, and Jupiter inhaled sharply – but to her surprise he did not aim it at her. Instead, it was directed at the black-haired man kneeling on the carpet. "You will obey my rules."

"Professor -?"

The shot was fired. The professor cried out in a way that she had never imagined he could, and the man on the floor crumpled forward onto the carpet. His sentence rose into a scream – a terrible and bloodcurdling sound. He was alive. Blood was pouring into the carpet from his right leg, but he was alive.

Why did this relieve her?

"I'm going to kill him now, Professor," Cyrus said with the utmost calm, like he was preparing for any mundane chore. Jupiter was pale and shaking. Saturn looked alarmed and unprepared, but Charon simply kept a firm grip on Oak. Ketchum was still yelling, a few tears squeezing from his eyes. "You will no longer break my rules."

Then there came a roar. It stopped every person in the room for a moment besides the sound of Ketchum's wailing, and then to her surprise it began to rain.

No, not rain – they were indoors, was she that afraid that she could no longer think straight? It was the sprinklers.

_For fires._

Charon held out his hand hesitantly against the door, and then pulled it away sharply, blowing on the skin. For a moment nobody moved, allowing themselves to be drenched by the sprinklers. Then the door and the entire wall accompanying it burst forward in a blast. Jupiter shielded her face and fell back against the carpet, certain that those closest to the door were now covered in debris. But she had no time to explore that possibility as a giant orange reptile towered over them and let out a furious bellow.

The creature's scales were slick with water and he let his jaws hang open in a roar that sent her arms flying over her head to protect herself. She didn't see how her meager pistol could protect her at all if this beast decided to take her out and didn't bother to arm herself with it. Jupiter rolled to avoid being crushed as the fire-type took a few swift steps forward and snatched the wounded Ketchum in his jaws carefully. She watched in amazement with the care that was shown not to cause his trainer more damage – then she cursed. Taming that thing had been Mars' assignment, it was simply too strong for them to waste by culling it. Couldn't she do anything right?

In a flash, with a few shots fired from Cyrus' pistol, the reptile was charging back down the shattered hall from which it had come. When she turned back to face her leader, she found that he was now in front of his desk, gun trained between her eyes. There was no time for her to react, she screwed her eyes shut tightly. There was, mercifully, no flash of memories from her past like they say the moment before death is like. The shot went off.

But then it was her leader howling in pain – apparently, one thing he could feel – gripping a bleeding hand with the other, none left to hold the gun with. Above her was the shaky old man Oak, her own gun in both hands. She felt her hip to assure it wasn't there, convinced she must be imagining this.

"Go!" Oak ordered, grabbing her and throwing her to her feet and towards the door. Saturn looked pale as snow and was climbing out from beneath debris. She had no sign of Charon. But she wasted no more time – with a glance back at the old man, she rushed out the door down the wrecked hallway.

* * *

Though at first the pain had been instant and blinding, adrenaline was beginning to kick in and dull the feeling of a bullet through his thigh. Ash was able to grip onto Charizard's shoulders and neck and stay put as the reptile charged through the building, occasionally crashing into a wall to test for weak points that would allow him to escape. In the first few moments upon his pokemon's back he had pulled his shirt from his torso and ripped it in pieces, creating a makeshift tourniquet around his thigh. He hadn't the slightest clue why Professor Oak had been in that room with him, or how his charizard was here and alive, but he had no time to contemplate those things now. Ash was certain that they would be free by now if only the sprinklers had not been activated – the massive fire-type was not about to let it show, but the constant rain was weakening him quickly.

"Charizard!" He cried, pointing straight ahead. "Don't let them get away!"

Down the hall was two women that Ash recognized – Administrators Mars and Jupiter. The violet-haired woman had a grip on the shorter one's shoulders, shouting something over the noise at her, but when they realized they were the charizard's targets both attempted to book it. Charizard swept his tail around and reeled them in rather forcefully, knocking both to the ground and sweeping debris over them.

"Don't even try that!" Ash noticed one was reaching for her gun. "Charizard, if either of them move again, finish them off!"

"Wait!" Jupiter screamed, hands thrown up. "Let us go and I can show you something that you want!"

"I'm not striking up deals with you!" He called back angrily. "Don't you think I know what you do, Jupiter?"

"Just – humor me!" She pleaded on. "These things are important to you!"

"Save your breath," he growled, preparing to order Charizard to end it.

"I can take you to your pokemon!" She screamed desperately, a tone he hadn't imagined she could procure. He couldn't tell if it were tears rolling down the woman's cheeks or if she were just soaked. "And your friends – the gym leaders!"

He paused. Charizard's sides heaved with every breath. The water was quickly getting to him and he needed to escape.

_But Gary and Pikachu._

He wouldn't leave alone.

"Charizard, grab her – carefully!" He added to be safe. The woman looked terrified as Charizard raised her onto his back by his jaws. The other administrator was pale and still had one hand on her pistol.

"Here are the conditions," Jupiter stammered from beside him, getting her shaky voice under some semblance of control. Her hair was falling from its usually neat buns, hanging across her neck in wet strings. "Mars and I go free."

"If you're lying to me," he spit, "my Charizard isn't going to be happy about it."

"I'm not lying," she panted, "Mars, go!"

The redhead didn't move. Her eyes were wide and mascara was running wildly down her cheeks.

"Go, Mars!" Jupiter screamed again, kick starting her coworker into action, who fled down the hallway. She turned her face back towards him. "Now which do you want? Your pokemon or your friends?"

"What the hell do you mean?" He balked. "We're saving them all!"

"No we're not," she yelled back, "there's no time. Cyrus will have apprehended us by then. You have to choose!"

There was no way in hell he was going to be made to choose. His pokemon and his friends were both equally important to him, and there was no way he was betraying either one over the other. But the look on Jupiter's face told him that there was no point in arguing the matter.

"Take me to my pokemon!" He demanded, and she began to direct him. The halls were surprisingly empty, which Jupiter offered an explanation for.

"Cyrus has summoned everyone," she pointed to her watch, which was blinking a frantic blue. "He's preparing to bring us in!"

Ash had no idea why this administrator kept referring to herself in his group, and he had no idea why she was being suddenly pursued by her own team. But frankly he had more important things to worry about, and the two of them slid off Charizard and while Jupiter fiddled with the ring of keys on her belt, Ash commanded the fire-type to stay put.

"Come on," the woman was muttering to herself. "Come on, be it."

"Open it already!" Ash cried impatiently, gripping his thigh which throbbed painfully with every step.

"I'm trying!" She snapped back, and the door flew open. She ushered him inside and closed it behind her, re-locking it from within.

"I want that open," he said, voice sounding loud in the hallway. The chaos outside was completely gone. The place they were in now was clearly sound-proof. "I need to be able to get back to Charizard as soon as possible."

"Deal with it," she swept past him down the hallway. "We don't need anyone finding us in here and interrupting. Now come on."

The hallway gave way to an enormous file room, with shelves upon shelves of binders and drawers. He limped carefully inside, half expecting a guard to leap out and shoot him again.

"The files are all in alphabetical order," Jupiter told him, "the drawers beneath each file hold your pokeballs. Hurry up!"

He shuffled down the aisle labeled "K", sifting through binders quickly. He could hear the heel of Jupiter's shoe tapping impatiently near the doorway. After a few more minutes he found his, and though he did wonder what was inside, he ignored it in favor of the drawer beneath. Inside there were seven pokeballs, which he snatched up eagerly and stuffed into his pockets.

"Are you ready?" Jupiter called. "We don't have much time!"

But instead of returning to her, he made his way down another aisle, this one labeled "O". This file was not nearly as difficult to find as his – in fact it was nearly double the size of most of the others. When he flew open the drawer, there was only one ball inside. He added that to his collection and hurried for the door.

"Come on," he ordered, and they made their way out of the file room. Outside the building was still drenched, and Charizard was looking shaky. Ash climbed aboard as Jupiter locked the door. "Now take me to my friends."

"Did you not hear me?" She cried back, but Charizard's snarl silenced her. "Ketchum, you don't know what you're doing –"

"I do know!" He snapped. "Now take me to them or I'm sure any one of my pokemon would be glad to finish you off!"

She bit her tongue.

* * *

Gary had no idea what was happening. He could see everyone's fearful expressions perfectly well in the now lit room as the sounds above them worried them all and the sprinklers soaked them straight through. When the door opened above, he fully expected someone like Mars to rush down the stairs and announce that they were all dead meat.

He did not expect Admin Jupiter to come flying down the stairs and fall to her knees in a wet heap in front of him.

"Gary," she was panting and breathing hard, "listen to me."

"What the hell is going on?" He demanded, aggressively covering how much it surprised him to hear her address him by his first name. "Are you –"

"Let us out of here!" Jessie cried. "What the hell is going on up there?"

"I need you to listen to me," she demanded from all of them and put her shaking hands on his shoulders. She was close enough where he could reach over and snag her pistol. The thought crossed his mind, but fueled his anxiety – why wasn't she guarding it more closely? Why was she touching him at all? "Ash Ketchum is on his way down here to save you. I need –"

"Ash?" Misty interjected. "He's – he's coming to free us?"

_"Listen!_" Jupiter commanded. "He's on his way down here, and if you care about him at all, you will send him right back up those stairs without any of you."

"What the fuck are you –"

"Don't bullshit with me, Gary!" She slammed a fist down on the concrete floor. "We don't have time for it! If Ash takes the time to break any of you out, we will all die, including him. Cyrus is sending his grunts throughout the building as we speak to finish him off. Do you want Ash Ketchum dead over you?"

"You all said he hasn't so much as asked about me," he growled back, "why the hell should I believe you?"

"Well, we lied about that," she snapped back. "Every damn waking moment he begs to know where we're keeping you. If you don't want to believe me now, fine, I guess I can't blame you. But consider it the last choice you ever make, because anyone who Cyrus thinks might know what I know isn't going to last very long here."

He had no idea what she was referring to by what she "knew", and she looked like a woman possessed, but the point was sinking in. Ash Ketchum was on his way down – how, Gary had no idea, but Jupiter didn't seem to be in the mind for explaining details – and he was going to get himself killed over them.

_No, he's not._

"He's not going to leave without us," Misty said shakily.

"I don't care what you have to tell him," she sputtered, holding her eye contact with him. "But you have to make him leave. I don't care if you have to tell him that you've never cared about him a day in your life."

"Ash Ketchum, huh?" Jessie muttered to herself quietly, and then spoke up louder in her more typical fashion. "You'd better not screw this up, Oak, or it sounds like its lights out for all of us!"

The door flew open and Jupiter backpedaled away from him, still watching him carefully. Gary swallowed hard, and when Ash limped into the lit room he nearly jumped against his chains.

"You're bleeding." The other man was at his side in a second, struggling with the chains. "What the hell is that, a bullet wound?"

"Yeah," he panted. His face looked pale and his breathing labored. "I'm getting you out of here. All of you. We can worry about that once we're safe."

Practically everyone in the room had their eyes on him. He didn't dare look, but he could feel it.

"Ash," he tore the chains out his hands, which got his attention. "You have to go."

"Can't it wait until -?"

"No," he cut him off firmly. Jupiter was pacing now. "It can't."

"Ash, we need to go!" Jupiter burst.

"I'm not leaving without them!" Ash shot back, turning his brown eyes on Gary. He spoke more softly. "I'm _not_ leaving without you."

"You _have _to leave without me," he growled unsympathetically, "you don't honestly think I need rescuing, do you?"

Ash paused.

"Gary, quit being a –"

"How about you shut the hell up and listen to me?" That got his attention. Gary ignored the tension in his stomach and somehow maintained eye contact. "Don't you get it? I don't give a shit if you're here to 'save' me. Do you think I need saving from a loser like you? I have a _plan, _Ash. That's the whole reason I'm down here, and you're going to blow it!"

_You don't have a plan. You're lying through your teeth._

"A plan?" The dark-haired man narrowed his eyes. "What are you -"

"I don't have time to explain it to you now," Gary rolled his eyes, "don't you think if I wanted to tell you about it I would have when we were _stuck _together in that room back in Kanto?"

"Stuck together," Ash blinked. Jupiter was tapping her wrist frantically behind him, and Gary tried to act as if he didn't notice.

"Yeah," Gary snorted, "you didn't think I honestly enjoyed being penned up with you, did you?"

"But," Ash had always been easy to read for Gary, and in that moment Gary panicked internally, predicting that Ash was about to ask the questions he didn't want to have to dash, and call him out on their actions imprisoned in Saffron. "We -"

Before this could occur, Gary raised his hands to the other man's face and closed his eyes. If he pretended he was alone for this, he might not puke with nerves when it was over. So he pulled Ash Ketchum in and closed his lips over his, willing his actions to express everything that his words were going to contradict. The moment was brief, and before he pulled away he bit down so hard on the other man's bottom lip that he flinched and let out a cry, backing up a bit and holding a hand up to his mouth.

He managed a haughty chuckle. "You're pretty gullible, aren't you, Ashy-boy?"

Ash stared at him blankly. Gary wasn't sure that the dark-haired man had heard what he had said.

"Ash," Misty spoke quietly as a roar sounded upstairs.

"We're out of time, Ketchum," Jupiter pressed. Ash got to his feet shakily, blinking at Gary hard several times like he would vanish in front of him. Blood was soaking down his pant leg and he stood lopsided.

"Now are you going to get out of here before you blow this for me or what?" Gary insisted harshly. "I don't need your help, Ash - when have I ever?"

Ash was breathing quietly, dark eyes flitting in Misty's direction only briefly, where the redhead was watching wide-eyed and gave him a slight nod. He limped back up the stairs with Jupiter's prompting, and the violet-haired woman gave Gary a last once-over.

"Thank you," she mouthed before she too slipped up the stairs. The silence in the dungeon was deafening. It had taken mere minutes to convince Ash Ketchum that he had been played by Gary Oak, and he had an idea of why. His stomach twisted violently like he was going to be sick.

_It's not like that was hard to believe – you've spent years belittling him. Why wouldn't he expect you to do it again?_


	28. Breaks Can't Last Long

Everyone invested and enjoying this story, shout out to you. It's a doozy to read I'm sure, and thus far been a joy to write. Just a quick thank you before this chapter begins for sticking with me so long, and I do hope you continue to read and enjoy it as it goes on. There's no telling at this point how many chapters are left, quite honestly!

**Disclaimer: I don't own Pokemon.**

* * *

Ash Ketchum gasped with the temperature drop as concrete and bricks fell away around them. On the back of their enormous reptilian charge, he and Administrator Jupiter lifted into the air. The bitter wind tore at his skin and clothing and he didn't hug his arms to his sides only in favor of keeping his hat positioned firmly on his head. Snowflakes and hail melted immediately upon contact with Charizard's scales, but Ash knew that this weather was not good for his nearly lost friend.

"Where are we?" He shouted over the whistling blizzard. He wasn't sure how he felt about Administrator Jupiter having positioned herself behind him – he felt half certain that she was going to procure a knife or a gun and finish him off while he had his back turned. But logically, that would be a terrible idea on the back of his rather defensive pokemon, and the woman did seem like one who thought with her head first and foremost.

"Outside Snowpoint City!" She yelled back, the huge Galactic base beneath them vanishing ever faster. "Let me tell you where to land!"

He didn't like that idea, but didn't see what other choice he had. He could set Charizard down himself anywhere he pleased and then have no idea where town was and suffer hypothermia, or he could take orders from a woman who was the enemy.

He couldn't help but think that Gary would take anything over the ladder.

He pushed the thought from his mind and heeded the admin's instructions. With the biting cold and the throbbing in his thigh, it was surprisingly easy for him to tell his mind to ignore Gary Oak for now.

Charizard bellowed when he touched down in the snow, lifting his tail purposefully above the layers to protect the dim-lit flame at its tip. Ash recalled him quickly – he didn't like how low that flame was getting, between the sprinklers inside the Galactic base and the blizzard outside it.

"This way!" Jupiter grabbed him by the arm, and he was so cold that the woman's nails felt like knives going through his skin. He was acutely aware of how he had not been provided clothes in quite some time, and the jeans that clung to him were hardly sufficient. As he chased Jupiter's uniformed outline through the blizzard, he wondered if Galactic attire were lined with anything on the inside, fantasizing about how warm one might be.

By the time they fumbled into town, he was shaking uncontrollably and blue at the lips. Jupiter was practically dragging him when they made it inside a hospital.

"Get me some assistance over here!" Jupiter snapped, sounding more like the administrator that Ash was familiar with. He hadn't noticed that they were in a hospital building from the outside, and he suddenly protested.

"Wait," he stammered, "w-wait, I can't b-be treated here –"

"Do you honestly think anyone in Sinnoh knows who you are?" She hissed quietly. "Cyrus tries to keep Sinnoh's public as calm as possible."

"But they know you –"

"Shut it," she snapped as a nurse approached. "They don't know what happened – yet."

"Oh!" The nurse gasped at one look at him. "Administrator Jupiter –"

"Take care of him," she ordered, shoving him forward. He glared at her over his shoulder. "He's under my charge."

She was staring at his belt with wide and nervous eyes. He glanced downward, wondering what was so wrong about him.

"You – um," she began unsteadily, "are you taking him in for pokemon possession?"

Ash could have cursed. In their haste to escape the cold, he had forgotten that the pokemon on his belt were not usual in Sinnoh. That detail appeared to have slipped Jupiter's mind too, and she darted forward to snatch them away.

"No -!" He caught himself before he reached for them instinctively. Jupiter stared at him with hard eyes and pocketed them slowly. He watched each ball disappear into her uniform with the sinking feeling that he was going to get completely screwed over – left at this hospital while Jupiter ducked out with his pokemon in hand.

"Is he, um…" she paused, now watching his free hands, "dangerous?"

"I can accompany you if you would feel more secure," Administrator Jupiter offered impatiently. "But as you should be able to see, he requires immediate treatment."

She motioned to the leg he was trying purposefully to put less weight on. The throbbing was increasing as his chilled skin thawed out, relieving his only distraction from the pain. He was feeling clammy and lightheaded and he had hardly noticed it before, but he was leaning on Jupiter for support.

"Yes, ma'am," the nurse nodded, "right away."

Ash was shuffled back to a room, where Jupiter stood impatiently by the door. The nurse looked over his injured leg and announced that, luckily for him, the bullet had not gone through bone or his femoral artery. Jupiter added rather insensitively that he would have been long dead if those situations had been the case. However the shot had been fired on such the edge of his leg that it had gone straight through, and she informed him that a doctor would be available to stitch either wound up in just a moment.

"Have you ever administered stitches?" Jupiter interrupted. She was standing conveniently in the doorway, and it didn't appear that she was going to step aside for the nurse to fetch the doctor. The young woman seemed to be getting that vibe as well.

"Yes," she said quietly.

"Then I'd prefer you handle this." Jupiter decided. "We are keeping this a low-profile incident, am I understood?"

The nurse nodded. Ash gritted his teeth as the local anesthetic was injected and the wounds stitched. That done, she removed his makeshift tourniquet.

"You're lucky you knew to make this," she commented, "it saved you a lot of trouble."

Administrator Jupiter's authority was not something that Ash had ever imagined himself being thankful for, but the majority of the hospital seemed afraid to ask her much of anything, least of all what she was doing. They left shortly after with a very informal discharge – Ash wasn't even sure if anyone was going to be charged for his treatment.

"Do you do that all the time?" He panted, bracing himself against the cold as they made their way to a hotel down the road. He hugged a large coat against his body, which a doctor present on their way out had so graciously donated to Jupiter for him.

"Do what?"

The door of the hotel shut behind him, silencing the wailing wind. He lowered his voice substantially, trying not to limp as they approached the front desk.

"Walk in somewhere, get anything you want," he explained in a hushed tone, "free medical treatment, free winter coats…and have nobody ask you what you're doing or why?"

She shrugged like it was nothing. When Ash fell onto the first real bed – sheets, pillows, blankets – he had seen since Kanto, he relaxed. Only for a split second, until he remembered the circumstances.

"Give me my pokemon back," he flipped over and sat up, pointing at her accusingly. She emptied her pockets to him readily, looking at him like such harshness had not been warranted.

"Here," she tossed the last ball, which he caught in shaky hands. "What would I want with them now?"

That brought forth a torrent of questions. Why the hell was Administrator Jupiter with him anyway? Why did it seem like she was running from the very group that she had been a part of just a few hours ago?

"You have a lot of explaining to do," he panted, though he was motionless on the blankets, "if you think you're staying here."

"Actually, I paid for this room," she let her hair down, and it surprised him to see it outside of its usual buns. "So if you'd like to leave, you're free to go."

He glared.

"But I wouldn't recommend it," she added snidely, "you look like hell – it's almost as if somebody shot you."

She vanished into the adjacent bathroom. Grumbling under his breath, he instead focused on the pokeballs in front of him. One of them looked unfamiliar, and he pressed the button in its center.

The room lit up. One moment, the room had looked peaceful and inviting and the next the lights were flickering madly, throws of lightening striking the walls and leaving charred blotches. Ash screwed his eyes shut tightly and hoped no strays would hit him. When he opened them again, the momentary chaos had died down, and in its place was a very upset-looking pikachu.

"Hey, buddy," he offered, and the electric rodent hopped immediately around to face him. His beady black eyes lit up and the small creature chittered as he scrambled to occupy the space in Ash's lap. His presence seemed to have extinguished the rodent's vengeful attacks, at least for now. "I know, I know. You hate those things."

He burrowed into the thickness of Ash's new coat, but jumped away with surprise when he found beneath it was not another layer of fabric but still icy-cold skin.

"I'm warming up, I swear," Ash chuckled. Pikachu was now sniffing intently around the hole through his jeans where the bullet had gone through. "Yeah, that's what you probably think it is. But I'm alright, see?"

Then, the door to the bathroom creaked open. Pikachu had his head turned in a flash, and when the woman in the doorway revealed herself, sparks began to fly.

"Pikachu!" Ash snatched him by the middle, wincing at the minor discharge he received. "No, okay? I know it's confusing, but you –"

Pikachu wiggled free of his grip, hopping out of his reach quickly and staring down the Galactic administrator. Jupiter was motionless in the doorway, her palms held out at her sides, as if the rodent would care to see that she was not brandishing a weapon.

"Pikachu, come on," he tried to reason, and then asked himself why he was bothering. He couldn't be treating this woman like she was on his side, not yet. Sure, she had taken him to a hospital, but he was certain that she had some kind of ulterior motive for not offing him yet.

"Are you going to call it off?" She asked hesitantly. She did not sound afraid, but she certainly didn't look excited about the outcome that they both knew was possible. "Is it going to let off a few sparks or should I expect to be boiled alive?"

"Probably the second one, if you keep calling him 'it'," Ash replied. To his surprise, Pikachu had not yet made his own call, but shocks were still gathering at his red cheeks. "Did you put him in that pokeball?"

"No," she answered, "that would be my coworker's – ex-coworker's – doing."

"Lucky," he added, "I don't think we'd be having this talk if it had been you."

Jupiter made her way slowly to her bed. Pikachu kept his beady eyes on her the entire walk, and then hopped up next to him to continue watching her.

"So are you going to explain what you're doing here with me?" He narrowed his eyes. "You could have gotten off my charizard and ran. Why did you take me to a hospital?"

"You needed the help," she grumbled, kicking off her shoes like she was going to make herself comfortable. It was terribly odd, seeing a Galactic administrator work her way out of her uniform in front of him. Underneath she had a tank top and black shorts – she looked like any other passing woman. "And I might owe you for everything that you've been through, but I don't care about that and don't expect me to pay you back anything for it. I helped you because that old man saved my life."

"What old man?" It clicked in Ash's brain. "You mean Professor Oak?"

She nodded. Ash wondered if Gary's grandfather had gone senile for saving the woman in front of him.

"And how was my charizard even there?" He added. "Last I heard, he was lost forever in the ocean."

"We did several sweeps of the surface to pick up stray valuables – mostly pokeballs. Your charizard just happened to be lucky. The balls float, you know."

"And Galactic just happened to be there at the site of the crash," he growled, thinking of Whitney. The Goldenrod City Gym leader might faint if she could know that he had a hotel room with a Galactic administrator. He made a mental note to pass along everything he could get out of Jupiter to the gym leader.

"Of course not," she rolled her eyes. She frowned as she began the next part, not like what she was about to say troubled her, but like she was reluctant to admit it. "The entire crash was staged. We had a water-type attack from below and then we swept in."

Ash wanted to leap to his feet and tackle her, but his thigh kept him anchored to the bed. Gritting his teeth he thought of the danger that his friends had been in and how the entire thing had been orchestrated purposefully.

"I'm sure you know why that was."

"You were looking for Gary and Misty," he grumbled.

"They were being tracked by us," she shrugged. "If we hadn't gotten them then, we would have gotten them eventually."

"So what has you running from Galactic now?" He changed the course of the conversation. "One minute you're one of their highest-ranking cronies and the next you're trying to get me to fly you out of their base."

"It's more complicated than that," she turned away from him, drawing the blankets up to her shoulders.

"And you're going to explain it to me," he spoke louder to command her attention, "or Pikachu is going to have something to say about it."

With an angry huff she threw back the blankets and glared at him.

"I suppose it doesn't matter, does it?" She snapped. "I could tell you all of it right now. My leader wants me dead, and that isn't going to change if I continue protecting his organization. Our Saffron City base exploded because we were housing something incredible there, something that we should probably not have had with us. We needed it, for reasons that were never entirely clear, but more importantly we needed its counterpart to solidify our alliance with Johto."

"What are you talking about?" He interrupted. "What incredible thing did you have?"

"You wouldn't believe it if I told you. You'd have to see it."

"Try me."

"There's no point –" she halted when Pikachu's cheeks sparked. "Alright, alright. Don't say I didn't tell you when you think I'm blowing smoke. We had one of the lake legendaries of Sinnoh – Uxie, Azelf and Mesprit."

Ash narrowed his eyes, but the curiosity was sparked. There was something about Ash Ketchum that had not changed throughout all the years he had been missing, and that was his insatiable thirst for the unknown and the unconquerable. Did he entirely believe the administrator? No. But he let her go on, because if she were telling the truth he did not want to miss a single detail.

"We only had one, but the other two attacked to retrieve it, just like lore says will happen."

"How would having a legendary pokemon help your alliance with Johto?"

"Who knows," she griped, "that Champion is a moron. But aren't they all? I suspected that Cyrus has ulterior motives for gathering the lake trio, and that's what landed me in hot water with him. Now he wants me dead because I know too much."

"What do you know, then?" He demanded more. "What do you know that he wants to kill you for?"

"I told you," she snapped, "he has other reasons for collecting the trio."

"What are they?" He pressed further, growing frustrated.

"They're none of your damn business," she answered, and he slammed a fist into the bed sheets. Pikachu squeaked and let off a spark that made both of their hair stand on end.

"Fine," he settled reluctantly, hoping to get other information out of her before he pressed for things that she was not ready to share. "What was that room that you took me to? With all the files?"

"Cyrus' record room. He has information on everyone whose ever dealt with Galactic before, and those who haven't who he's deemed significant enough to make one about."

"What kind of stuff is in those files?"

She smirked, looking pleased for the first time. "I compiled many of them myself. Everything is in them – everything. There are things inside those files that you don't even know about yourself."

He was ready for another question, but she rolled back over.

"That's enough questions," she decided, like it was her call to make. "I believe I've told you enough, being an administrator."

"Ex-administrator, don't you mean?" He shot back, and she scowled audibly. The woman was clearly trying to fall asleep. "Hey, aren't you afraid that I'll have my pikachu fry you if you just go to bed like that? What makes you think you can be that comfortable around me?"

"I am not in any sense comfortable around you, Ketchum," she replied snidely without looking at him, "but if you really think electrocuting me to death will get you farther in this life, by all means, don't let me try to stop you."

Ash left her alone. He knew that he wasn't going to sic any of his pokemon on the woman as she slept, but he hesitated to rest himself. He knew he needed it – the throbbing in his leg was worsening, whatever they had given him in the hospital was beginning to wear off – but he didn't trust any Galactic enough to take a nap in front of them, even with Pikachu at his side and on alert.

Instead of sleeping that night, Ash Ketchum stayed awake with the racing thoughts in his head. With his most immediate questions answered somewhat by Jupiter, he was left with only what she could not explain to him. Pikachu had moved to nestle in the crook of his neck, acting as a living pillow. Ash had one hand drawn up on the rodent's small body, distractedly patting him. The electric-type's nose twitched contentedly, but he had yet to keep his eyes off his Jupiter for more than a moment, who appeared to have fallen asleep rather quickly.

_Appears to have, at least._

He would have counted himself lucky that he couldn't sleep for the thoughts in his head, so that he might be alert and aware if she was plotting anything against them – if not for how miserable they were making him.

"I shouldn't be surprised, should I, buddy?" He whispered to Pikachu.

He had seen it coming, to some degree. He had simply turned a blind eye and pretended that maybe he could be wrong. After all, how could Gary Oak – child prodigy, a gym leader, a man who had resigned from his Champion position because the title bored him – ever think of him as more than just a pitiful excuse for a rival? He was not nearly as talented, as great, as handsome…

Once again, his rival had reminded him of that.

"I guess he really is just that," he continued to whisper to Pikachu like the rodent would answer, "just my rival."

But he had been so convinced. When they had been housed together by Galactic, he had even felt secure that the whole reason Gary had ever given him such a hard time when he did was because he had feelings for him. Ha! He had been a fool to think at any point that Gary…

Whatever. Gary was an arrogant asshole and that was the entire reason their friendship had fallen apart anyway. They had been friends – best friends – once, for many years up until their rivalry had really come into full swing. To some extent they had always been competitive with each other, but it wasn't until their journeys were poised to begin that this competition had overshadowed their friendship. Gary had always given him a hard time about nearly everything, but he had been there whenever Ash might need him, and stood up for him if other kids talked badly about him – which was an occurrence that quickly died out, because one simply did not talk badly about Gary Oak's best friend. The older they got the more fierce their competitive sides grew, but it never interfered with the bottom line, which was that they were closer than practically any other pair of kids in Pallet Town. Ash had no idea exactly where their rivalry had kicked off, but if he had to guess, it would be during one of the luckiest moments of his life.

_"Hey, check this out!"_

He recalled a young, teenage Gary Oak, something small running at his heels. The brunette swept the creature off the ground and held it up, where it writhed to be put back down.

_"An eevee, see? Gramps got her for me today."_

_"Aren't they really rare?"_

_"Oh, yeah. There's like, one hundred in all of Kanto or something."_

That had been a gross exaggeration on his friend's part, but at the time Ash hadn't known any better. As usual, he took Gary's word for it.

_"She's pretty cute, look at that face – I've already had a couple girls ask if they can come by before I leave and see her. She's a chick-magnet. Jealous, Ashy-boy?"_

He was, but not because his friend's starter was a 'chick-magnet'. Girls were a department that, like everything else, Gary liked to make a competition. But unlike everything else, it was one area in which Ash refused to even try and compete, because ever since they had hit puberty Gary had been the center of female attention in their age group, and Ash had left on his pokemon journey without even having been kissed yet. He could remember thinking to himself that Gary definitely didn't need a fluffy little pokemon following him around to reel in girls, but he wasn't going to admit that to the other male then or now. In fact, Ash was certain that if he had been granted an eevee, the girls in town would have teased him for having such a girly pokemon. Ash was confident that Gary could have painted his starter's toenails and _still _have had to crawl through a crowd of admirers to get to his Mercedes in the morning.

_"You're not leaving yet, are you?"_

But no, Ash had not been jealous over the girls. He had been jealous to hear that Gary was preparing to leave, and that he still had no starter to speak of himself.

_"Well, duh. I'm taking off in the morning. But talk to your mom – I overheard Gramps and her talking on the phone, I think she picked you up a pokemon too."_

He had run home, but all he found inside was his mother washing dishes, looking disappointed.

_"I'm sorry, sweetheart. We don't have enough money right now –"_

He hadn't stuck around for the speech that he was supposed to understand and sympathize with. All he could think of was how it wasn't fair that he didn't have an equal shot as Gary at his own dream.

_"Please, Professor. Don't you have any spare pokemon in the lab?"_

_"I'm sorry, Ash, but –"_

_"I'll take anything. Anything. A rattata. Please, Professor, I want this more than anything in the world."_

Professor Oak had relented. He had something – an annoyed Pikachu who was no good to the lab because he wouldn't cooperate, and it took half an hour to get him inside any pokeball. Outside, Gary had looked shocked – and offended, perhaps? – to find Ash with a pokemon after his mother had failed to provide him with one. He had challenged Ash to a battle that he remembered regretfully.

The eevee had obeyed Gary's every command, despite having been introduced to her trainer only hours before, while his pikachu had made a beeline for the woods. Ash had gone scrambling after him with rubber gloves and rope.

_"Haha! At least Gramps gave me a pokemon that_ likes_ me. You have a lot of catching up to do, loser!"_

For the first time Ash was convinced that Gary had meant that maliciously.

"I can't believe I fell for it," he breathed, coming back to the present, Pikachu nuzzling closer. But really, he _could_ believe it. He had always played right into Gary's hands, no matter what the circumstances were. Gary had a voice that you just listened to – the girls did, adults always had, and of course Ash had fallen in right along with them. He had a way about him that called the shots even before he opened his mouth. So it made perfect sense that he had believed that Gary was being sincere even when he knew deep down that it was just too good to be true.

Whatever. He didn't care anyway.

Only he still couldn't sleep over it, and proceeded to spend hours musing about their pasts together. Among the pokeballs he now possessed, one did not belong, and he reached to the bedside table and plucked it, rolling it between his fingers.

He pressed down and into the dimly lit room materialized Umbreon. She blinked with shining red eyes and did a spin, surveying the room. Her muzzle parted in a classic grimace, and at last she began to sniff along the walls, stopping at the door to stare. Pikachu hopped down to approach her slowly as Ash sat up.

Umbreon let out a confused note before she noticed Pikachu and spared him a few sniffs. Ash wondered what the dark-type was thinking. He was certain that she understood that her trainer was not here, but did she have ideas about where he might be? Did she think about why he could be gone – did she worry that he had left her on purpose?

The umbreon rubbed her spine along the door and stared at him, waiting patiently to be let out. The rings on her fur began to glow faintly when he whispered 'no'. He patted the sheets, and Pikachu came hurrying back, burrowing into the blankets. Umbreon stared at him with confusion, as if wondering why he expected her to listen to him. He insisted, patting again, and slowly she followed to the bed, lowering herself into the sheets.

"Gary's not here," he patted her head slowly, and at the name her ears perked. She glanced back at the door. "No, we're not going to get him."

She returned to her post at the door. Instead of insisting that she return, he rose from the bed and limped over to join her at her position. She was staring at him, blinking, waiting for him to do something.

"Yeah," he spoke as she vocalized again, this time more sadly. "I miss him, too."

* * *

The next morning, something else occurred to Ash.

Throughout the night, he had stolen perhaps a few hours' worth of sleep. Each time had been punctuated by dreams of Galactic getting ahold of him again, of Pikachu being in danger, of Gary laughing in his face at how gullible he was. His mind felt heavy, but still he had worked out another thing to ask Jupiter.

"Hey," he began as she exited the bathroom. Her hair was damp, reminding him that a shower was in fact at their disposal and he was in great need of it. "There's these, uh – well, there's a couple I guess, that I know of that you have as prisoners. Jessie and James?"

Her eyebrows rose.

"Interesting," she commented, but offered nothing else.

"Why do you have them?"

"Well, for one, their criminals," she stated, as if she were not one. "Team Rocket members."

"Ex-Team Rocket. I've heard they're reformed," he said, and then blinked in confusion at why he would ever try to defend either of those two.

"Criminals don't change," she insisted. "They're classified as missing persons and its best that they remain that way. It was a personal call by myself and the other administrators."

He was curious about that, but let it drop. He didn't need to use up his daily question quota on Jessie and James.

"We're going to head out today," Jupiter announced, and Ash furrowed his brow. He didn't like the authoritative tone she was giving him.

"Since when are you in charge?" He said, holding Charizard's pokeball out in one hand. "I'm the one with the pokemon."

The administrator narrowed her eyes at him and pulled something from the small bag at her hip. It was a pokeball, which she rolled between her fingers.

"What makes you think you're the only one?"

There was a tension in the room that flickered between their eyes, but then Jupiter turned away. She began climbing into her uniform when Ash spoke up again.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" He offered, trying to be sensible. "Galactic is looking for you now. Shouldn't you blend in?"

She stared at him resentfully before letting the uniform fall back to the ground.

"Fine," she agreed to his surprise. "Now where are we headed?"

He blinked in surprise. "Wait. You don't know?"

"Up until yesterday," she began condescendingly, "I thought I knew everything. So no, Ketchum, I don't know. Any place I might suggest is crawling with Galactics and we are not particularly welcome in their company. Now, do you have any suggestions?"

He didn't have to think for more than a moment.

"Actually, I think I do," he nodded. "Do you know where I can make a long-distance phone call?"


	29. Back in the Loop

This chapter introduces a new character. I can promise that next chapter will be a bit more explosive than the one posted today (though personally, I don't think this one should disappoint you, as it fills in the details of a few characters that have suffered neglect lately)...but it was simply too long to combine them both reasonably.

**Disclaimer: I don't own Pokemon.**

* * *

The redhead walked swiftly and curtly, keeping her eyes ahead and ignoring the watching looks of the grunts around her. They were newly under her charge, former underlings of Administrator Jupiter prior to her flying the coop. The situation could in one sense be seen as a career advantage for her, but in the other it was an enormous change – and Mars was not one for change that she had not previously accounted for.

She disappeared into the office of her leader, leaving their eyes behind. The lights were out save for a lamp on his desk, illuminating his face in a way that frightened her, though she kept a straight face.

"You called for me, Leader Cyrus?" She inquired with a steady tone. The room was an eerie orange.

"Yes," he began slowly, nodding along with his sentence. "I have an assignment for you."

She waited.

"Given how you succeeded in bringing in two of our three delinquent gym leaders from Kanto," his eyes darted upwards at her for a brief second, and she felt chastised rather than praised, "this should not be an issue for you. I would like our former administrator Jupiter brought to me."

She was not surprised, but still the assignment did not excite her. She nodded slowly.

"Who shall I assign Pewter's –"

"We need not worry about Pewter's gym leader for the time being," he interrupted. "We have far more pressing matters to handle, I assure you. Hand off that assignment to one of your top grunts. Do make sure you are confident that they can handle it."

"Of course," she nodded, turning to take her leave.

"Oh, and Annie?"

She cringed. Not a soul still lived besides her leader that called her by her name – many simply did not know it – and _how_ she hated it.

"I have nothing to say to our dear Luna," he carried on, "so do bring her to me in a body bag."

The room felt smaller suddenly, the distance between herself and her leader shortened considerably. So shortened that she could perhaps feel his breath ghosting down her neck, and he could possibly notice the tightening of her chest and how her heart quickened.

She felt relief that her back was turned to him, for her expression belied too much of reaction for her liking.

"That won't be a problem," he cooed on, "will it, Annie?"

She was silent at first. But as nothing but her own heavy breathing filled the air around her, the inevitable began to sink in. She lowered her hand instinctively to rest against the pistol on her hip, but at that moment it brought her no sense of comfort.

"No," she replied, barely audible, "of course not."

* * *

Gary had a feeling that things were about to get much worse for them.

Or perhaps, not all of them. For Gary, things had essentially hit rock bottom, so how they could worsen he wasn't sure. He was filthy, hungry and pissed off, and he had sent out his only chance at escaping by dashing any and all progress he might have made to nothing. If Gary Oak had even for a second appeared to have more depth than a haughty prick in the eyes of Ash Ketchum, he had certainly reversed himself back to that status now.

Still, at least Misty had not yet asked about the brief kiss she might have glimpsed. Maybe she was afraid to. Maybe she had somehow missed it. Or maybe she flat-out hated him for it. In fact, she had not spoken to him at all. But hardly anyone had uttered a word since Cyrus had regained control of his Sinnoh base. Food was coming in less frequent rations. Mars was appearing more often, and more furiously. He had a black eye to show for that.

_"Where is Jupiter? What the hell –"_

_"Don't speak her name!"_

"Are you going to explain all of this?"

Gary closed his eyes and tried to will himself away. Misty's voice was like a heavy weight on his chest, and her question even more perilous. A friendship – could it be called that? – which had ebbed and flowed riskily since its uncertain start could snuff out entirely between them if he told the truth, which would almost certainly come out eventually even if he lied.

The dungeon was silent. Even Jessie had run out of hot-mouthed comments under the shock of recent events.

"Can't this wait?" He asked with a sigh, though he really had no idea why it would need to. "Really?"

He spared the redhead a sideways glance. She was resting her head against the dirty wall, dust lining her pale face. Her eyes looked tired, and her body sagged against the stone. She looked exhausted, not angry.

"Alright," he straightened up against the wall, turning away from her again. "How about this – I'll come clean if you do. What did they do to you before they brought you down here?"

Misty took a moment to answer. He wasn't sure that he was in the position to make bargains, but when she spoke up it seemed that things had swung in his favor temporarily.

"They tapped my boyfriend's phone lines," she began with a shrug, as if to shift a weight off of her shoulders. "They played me a clip of it."

"And?"

"He was crying over a letter I wrote to him back in Mahogany, hoping that I was okay. But he doesn't think so, not anymore," she shifted, and the sound of dirt beneath her shoes was a soft crunch. She spoke in clipped sentences, like the words tasted poorly rolling off of her tongue. "It's been a long time since then. He thinks I might have just escaped without him. Saved myself."

"He doesn't know you very well, then."

"And you do?" Suddenly her tone was more threatening. "Do you think that's all they showed me?"

He didn't reply. He had thought so, but now he imagined he was wrong. In fact the more he thought about it in that frantic moment, the more he realized how foolish it would be of him to think that Misty had gone practically mute for days at a time over a boyfriend. Ash Ketchum had abandoned her without a note for years an she had carried on, however difficult it might have been.

"I had a psyduck once. I treated him horribly. I called him every name under the sun, and showed him maybe half the attention I gave the rest of my team," she began coldly, rushing through her sentences like they pained her to admit. The story's beginning was taking a moment to sink in fully – he couldn't imagine Misty falling under the category of abusive trainer, no matter how he was trying to wrap his brain around it. "I just didn't know how to work with him. I didn't understand his species, and I never bothered doing any research like any – like any true water type specialist would have."

"You were a water-type specialist," he interrupted suddenly, feeling particularly unnerved with the direction the tale was headed. Hearing Misty Waterflower admit to being less than a water-type _master_ bothered him more than the nagging hunger in his gut, the stiffness of his joints or how he had to strain to see the hurt expressions waxing and waning on her face in the low light. "You were nation-renowned – hell, you still are."

"Does it matter?" She nearly spit. "I certainly wasn't acting like one. By the time I had grown up enough to realize what a poor excuse for fair treatment I'd given him, it was too late and Galactic had already changed everything. But here's the thing – he's here. He's alive! Isn't that just karma for you?"

She was laughing bitterly, in a way that had him staring at her like she had lost her mind. A member of Misty's old pokemon team, here and alive? Thoughts went racing through his head before he could ignore them. What about his old team? Did they have a shot like he had been certain they never had?

"How do you know that?"

"They showed me," her laughter died down. "He's this sleek, beautiful golduck – and he's all theirs. Jupiter took me to him and offered me the chance to take him back."

"So," he paused briefly, confused ever more, "why didn't you?"

"I couldn't get him to go with me," her head lolled towards him against the stone wall, her eyes regretful. "I could hardly get him to stand near me. But I kept getting these flashes – I didn't see anything, and nobody was saying anything, but I could feel it. It didn't feel like I was myself, standing there with him and Jupiter. I felt like a kid again, and my mom was picking my sisters over me for everything, like she always did. That exact feeling. I could feel how they all looked at me and knew I was different and that she loved me less. And I was just crying – and I couldn't stop. I didn't feel like I do now, like an adult. I swear, I could have been five years old for a moment."

Gary listened.

"It was him, wasn't it?" She murmured, looking back up towards the dark ceiling, away from him. "I didn't know enough about psyduck to decide he deserved to be treated right. But I know golduck have a lot more control over their psychic abilities. Do you think he did that to me?"

Gary knew that there were instances of golduck transmitting strong emotion to humans and presumably other pokemon, but he didn't really want to confirm Misty's fears. Something about her tone told him however that she already knew the truth.

"I should have known how he felt," she sounded puzzled, "I lived my whole childhood like that – the least favorite. Why didn't I notice?"

There was a pregnant silence. He diverted his eyes to the floor, because he couldn't think of anywhere else to place them. Misty's face, with her far-away expression, was uncomfortable to him now.

"So what's your explanation, Gary?" She put the question out there, the one he dreaded. "I'm waiting."

"What, what do you want me to say?" He began harshly, suddenly annoyed that he was being asked to hold up his side of the bargain. "I had to get Ash out of here, didn't I? I was just doing my damn job."

"Are you going to pretend you don't know what I'm talking about, then?" She asked tiredly.

"You're not talking about anything that mattered," he carried on irritably, "okay? I did my best to save all of our asses, and you should be glad that it worked."

"Right," she scowled, "I almost forgot to kiss the great Gary Oak's feet when he nearly bit off my ex's bottom lip."

"Someone sounds a little bitter," he grumbled, shifting away from her direction.

"I don't care about whatever's going on with you two," she growled back, "I do care about you completely tip-toeing around it and trying to turn this around on me."

"I'm not tip-toeing around, there's nothing happening," he huffed.

"Funny," she shifted away too, "it sure looked like Ash thought something was happening."

"Fuck off, Misty."

"Honestly?" A new voice chimed in, breaking their steady stream of escalating retorts. It was Salvador, who surprised him with his next statement. "I wish _both_ of you could right now. But we're all chained up here, so just keep to yourselves until you've cooled off. Spare us the headache."

"Yeah, hero," Jessie piped up sourly from her corner at him. "Do us another favor and shut the hell up."

All fell silent when the door at the top of the stairs opened quietly. Administrator Mars' arrival was not usually something that was barely audible, and it worried him perhaps more than her usual explosive entrances. He noticed something was dragging behind her as she descended down the stairs, but in the lack of lighting he could not quite make it out. Mars said not a word, but slung the items from over her shoulder and hoisted them quickly from the ceiling. Several times he thought for certain he had heard her sniffle, but he couldn't put the image of tears to the cold administrator's face, and so he wrote it off as something he had imagined. When all four dangled from the ceiling, he realized with a start what they were.

"Your friend escaped with Administrator Jupiter," she began at last, "he has one week to turn her in, or for me to find her myself. There are no more games to be played. Leader Cyrus is not interested in humoring any of you any longer, and frankly, I believe it's about time. If neither of these things happens…"

She tightened one noose unnecessarily.

"…You will be hung one by one."

The silence was deafening.

* * *

A boat floated peacefully in a dock, surrounded by several others of a similar size. It was a modest vessel – large enough to comfortably house one person for long periods of time, just as it was intended to. The man aboard kept spare equipment below deck in case he should ever have visitors, but he could think of only one that he would ever expect, and did not foresee him having time in his schedule in the upcoming months.

The phone rang unexpectedly. The man, reclined below deck, worked the cell phone from his pocket and brought it to his ear casually. One hand rested on the back of his head, itching the base of his neck where a black mohawk came to an end.

"Hello?" He asked, tapping one foot rhythmically. The tapping ceased upon the question's answer.

"Clyde?"

He recognized the voice immediately.

"I don't do work with Team Galactic anymore, Administrator," he began straight away harshly, the relaxed look long gone from his face, "You'll have better luck contacting my brother."

"Ex-administrator," the woman's voice came over the line curtly, like the words were sour in her mouth. His eyes widened briefly. "So I no longer have any authority over your brother."

"Or me, for that matter," he quipped, ready to flip shut the phone when the woman cut in with something that intrigued him.

"I have located your parents."

"What?" He responded disbelievingly, sitting upright. "Where? Are you sure? Are they safe?"

"Of course I am sure," he could practically hear the ex-administrator rolling her eyes, as she often had during his training. "They are…safe. As for where, I can lead you right to them, in exchange for one small favor."

His heart dropped slightly. If there was one thing his time with Galactic had taught him, it was that favors, especially with higher ups, were to be avoided at all costs. It was critical to remain, as a grunt, as neutral as possible and most certainly out of anyone's debt.

That, and to never trust Jupiter.

"…A favor." His tone was flat. "You're going to bribe me, then?"

"Bribe you?" She sounded too casual to possibly mean it. "I prefer to think of it as an exchange of goods. Seeing as I do have access to something you want, this shouldn't be an issue, should it?"

The man, jaw clenched, managed to deliver an answer in an even tone.

"No," came the reply, "it shouldn't be."

"Good," she answered, sounding pleased but not pleasant. "You are still in possession of your boat, are you not?"

Ah, now it made sense.

"I might be."

"Let us hope so," she carried on, unconcerned, "you will pick up my cargo in Goldenrod City by boat. I will be contacting you further with more exact locations. Expect four packages, and one is_ very_ expensive. You'll deliver all of them to me at Iron Island."

"And we'll exchange for my parents."

"Yes. Of course. If you have any…difficulties, picking up these packages, be sure to mention that Ketchum sent you. Do be careful – I will not accept damaged goods."

The line went dead and the man stared at his phone with a torrent of mixed emotions, most prominently of all, exhaustion. Not physical tiredness, but a mental weariness that had come upon him as soon as he had heard Jupiter's voice on the line and knew that Galactic was not done with him yet, and perhaps never would be.

_"I don't want you making this decision because of your brother. If you join Galactic, I want it to be because you wanted it - because some things are hard to outrun, Clyde."_

The man recalled his father's advice with a solid lump in his throat.

* * *

Brock was brushing his teeth when the phone rang.

He thought nothing of it and continued the motions, noting the growing stubble gathering on his cheeks. Finally he had been able to rid himself of that stupid beard he had been convinced to grow, only after pointing out to his companions that he was essentially under house arrest anyway. He had secured himself a very cozy spot in Gym Leader Whitney's basement for the time being, until they could figure out their next move. But that had been weeks ago, and he had not a clue where Ash, Gary or Misty could be. He tried not to think of it, which was easy only when his brother and fiancé were present – it was simple to concern himself more with their immediate safety than stress over what he could not help. May had paid them a visit just days before announcing that she was raising help for them in Hoenn and that she had to return to continue it, but that Gary and Misty were, to her knowledge, captive with Galactic. He knew Ash was likely in the same boat, as Whitney had regretfully told them about their failed plea with Johto's Champion. Brenda, Forrest and Ritchie were for the most part free to go about Goldenrod City like any old citizens. He felt like a fugitive if there ever had been one – an extra, stuck in a basement, with the essential members of his team out of commission and not a move to make in mind.

He could hear Whitney's voice above, muffled through the floor, as she picked up. What he did not expect was the sound of footsteps flying down the staircase and her voice raising several pitches.

"Brock!" She nearly screamed, a hand hovering over her mouth as she lowered the volume throughout her sentence, "Brock, take the phone!"

He spit and held the device to his ear, wiping his face with a towel. Brow furrowed, unsure what he was supposed to expect, he offered a greeting.

"Hello?"

"Brock?" The voice at the other end began unsteadily. "It's Ash."

Relief hit him suddenly and unexpectedly. He blinked several times and Whitney was still watching, a grin forming from her lips as she caught eyes with him.

"Ash," he managed with a chuckle, bringing one hand to his forehead. "Are you alright? What's been going on?"

"I don't have a really long time to talk about it," the other man dismissed gently, which disappointed him but he took in stride. Hearing Ash Ketchum's voice stirred something up inside him, motivated him. If Ash had some kind of game plan, Brock was ready to play by it. "Brock, do you trust me?"

That question caught him off guard a bit. Of course he trusted Ash. It was something that was answered before he even spoke – an answer that he felt rather than thought about. Despite the absence present in their friendship and the disagreements he might have with Ash's choices in the past, this did nothing to affect how he felt immediately upon hearing the question. Yes, of course he did.

"Yes," he affirmed, "why, what is it?"

"I need you to take everyone and meet me in Sinnoh," Brock held his tongue even though right then, he could have interrupted with one thousand reasons why his little brother and fiancé were not invited on such a venture, "well, more so an island off of Sinnoh. Iron Island. We have a boat set to arrive to pick you up within the next few days."

"Sinnoh?" He narrowed his eyes with confusion. "What's in Sinnoh besides the heart of Galactic?"

"Nothing, really," came the reply, "that's exactly the point."

Brock considered this for a brief moment. It was a bold suggestion on Ash's part, but perhaps the most important thing that they could do. Several setbacks had left them nearly stagnant in their mission to free Kanto of Galactic's reign, and there was little that Brock was foreseeing them able to do in Goldenrod City, even with the support of its gym leader. Besides, he did not imagine that Ash was sending them into Sinnoh without a plan. It sounded to him like his companion had something in mind.

"I'll be honest with you, Ash," he sighed heavily, "that sounds crazy. And even though I can think of one hundred reasons why I don't want to go through with whatever you have in mind, we are flat out of ideas over here in Johto."

"So you'll trust me?"

"Yeah," he admitted slowly, "I will. Will you explain exactly what you have in mind to me once we meet you there?"

"Of course," he said without hesitation. "That's why I need you all here. To have you back in the loop."

Brock had to admit that he appreciated that. Still, one question nagged at him that he could not wait to have answered.

"Whose 'we'?" He commented. "Are you with Gary and Misty?"

"I…" the sentence began as awkwardly as it finished, causing Brock to raise a brow, "no. I'm not with them…I'll have to explain later. You wouldn't…know what to make of it anyway. But believe me, Brock – I think who I _am_ with might be just who we need."

* * *

"Is that it?"

"How are we supposed to know, anyway?"

"Quiet," Brock hushed Ritchie and Forrest, peering from afar. In the dark of night, the boat was not clearly visible, but it was the only small vessel docked and from the distance they were, seemed to fit the description that Ash had later provided him with.

"What is we're wrong?" Ritchie inquired. "Whitney won't be able to help us."

The brunette was right, of course. Whitney had agreed to head off to Hoenn to meet up with May and discuss whatever mysterious projects the younger woman had brewing in her native nation while Brock, Forrest, Brenda and Ritchie headed off to Iron Island. If they were wrong about the identity of the boat, it could spell trouble should anyone recognize him in particular.

"There's only one way to find out," Brenda shrugged and took a few assertive steps forward. Brock stopped himself from reaching out and ushering her back, reminding himself that no one would recognize her like they might him. The woman approached the boat nonchalantly, calling out in the dark until a man with a dark mohawk appeared from within. Brock was not close enough to hear the conversation that ensued, but when Brenda looked back and waved them over the three men proceeded with caution.

"This is Clyde," Brenda introduced. "I think we're supposed to be meeting him."

"How can you be sure?" Forrest piped up suspiciously.

"Ketchum sent me," the man called Clyde interjected gently, "if that helps any."

Brock blinked. That _was_ certainly helpful.

"Alright," Brock spoke up. "How else would he know Ash if he hadn't been the one to send him? We go with him."

"I'm supposed to be picking up four packages," Clyde raised an eyebrow. "I'm assuming I shouldn't have taken that so literally?"

Awkwardly, the five of the shuffled onto the boat. Brock couldn't help but feel that this was a suspicious move for them to make, but it was better than no move at all, and as Goldenrod City disappeared behind them he felt only the smallest bit of sadness. It didn't hit him when he thought of leaving the city behind – but when he dared to think of what might lie ahead for them.

Two days passed undisturbed. Brenda struck up conversation with Clyde often, learning about the boat and how it worked, and Forrest had it in his mind to catch a water-type, but Brock kept largely quiet besides the occasional talk with Ritchie about what Ash might have in mind for them.

"You know, this is a really nice boat," Brenda commented absentmindedly, looking off the side with the rest of the group scattered about lounging in seats. "Is it all yours?"

"Yeah," Clyde replied with a chuckle, which surprised Brock a bit to hear. The young man couldn't be older than twenty. "I imagine that's why Administrator Jupiter sought me out for the job. Or, whatever she is now."

There was a quick silence and every muscle in Brock's body tensed. A frantic look was exchanged between the four of them before Brock cleared his throat.

"Administrator Jupiter?"

The name itself did not ring a bell in his head, but he knew that Galactic's top men and women were referred to as administrators. The word alone made him nervous.

"Yeah," Clyde had his back to them, eyes on a map, unconcerned and unaware of the tension unfolding behind him. "Aren't you guys with Galactic in some way, or whatever?"

Forrest sprang forward before Brock could react. His younger brother grabbed either arm of the other man and pinned them quickly behind his back, taking Clyde's moment of confusion to do so without much protest. When Clyde cried out and began to struggle, the two of them both hit the deck, where Forrest worked Clyde into a pinned position on the floor of the boat.

"_With_ Galactic?" Forrest was shouting indignantly. "You're with Galactic, aren't you? Who sent you? It wasn't Ketchum at all, was it?"

"Forrest!" Brock cried and hurried over to assist. Ritchie was upon the scene as well, with Brenda looking wide-eyed.

"Ketchum_ did_ send me!" Clyde was yelling in defense, looking alarmed. "What the hell are you –"

"Who is Ketchum then?" Forrest cried. "Who?"

"I don't know!" Clyde carried on. "I was told you'd come with me if –"

"Do you see?" Forrest looked up at Brock, standing over the scene unfolding, with wild eyes. "He's with Galactic. This was a set up!"

"Wait a second," Brock held out one hand, placing the other over his temple. He needed a moment to take in what was happening here. "Alright, Clyde. Who sent you?"

"I've told you!" He shouted more angrily now. Forrest twisted his arm painfully at the tone, stopping immediately when Brock sternly reprimanded him. _"Ketchum_ sent me. But Jupiter was the one to call me and give me all the details."

"So why are you picking us up, then?" Brock narrowed his eyes, unconvinced of Ash's involvement. "And where are you taking us?"

"Iron Island," he panted, "I'm picking you up because Jupiter told me to. I'm not even _with_ Team Galactic - I thought _you_ would be, seeing as she gave me the orders!"

"He's taking orders from an administrator," Brenda pointed out with crossed arms. "I think Forrest is right."

"That it's a scam?" Ritchie inquired, and both Brenda and Forrest nodded.

"I'm throwing him below deck," Forrest decided suddenly, getting to his feet and wrenching the other man with him. "Do you think this boat is sturdy enough to hold Nidoking, Brock? He could guard the door."

Whitney had provided Brock with a ball to hold his companion pokemon, but he wasn't sure using the giant to keep a prisoner was a good move. In fact he was not entirely convinced that they should be throwing Clyde below deck so easily, but seeing as he wasn't sure, it was better to be safe in his mind.

"I don't think we'll need Nidoking yet," Brock said hesitantly, and didn't halt his brother as he shouldered the man below deck. When he returned, the party of four looked between each other, clearly on edge.

"So," Ritchie began unsteadily, "what now?"

Brock realized that the three were all looking in his direction. Crossing his arms, he blinked slowly before coming to a temporary conclusion.

"I wish we had a way to contact Ash," he began, "but we don't. And it's better to be safe than sorry in this respect. We're going to sleep in shifts tonight, with somebody guarding the door at all times. Tomorrow morning we'll turn this thing around."

Eventually the moon rose over the ocean, casting a silver glow across the still waters and the boat. Above deck, Pewter City's gym leader found himself staring off the edge, searching the water as if it could provide him answers. He glanced over his shoulder to find his brother guarding the door to below deck, and his fiancé dozing sprawled across a few cushions lain out. He caught eyes with the final man in their group, who rose steadily from his seat and moved to join him.

"Can't sleep either?"

Brock shook his head with a sigh. Ritchie looked out across the ocean.

"You know," the brunette began quietly, "I've been thinking a lot about Ash's phone call."

"So have I," Brock admitted. His head and heart were at odds. He had been told to trust Ash no matter what and had assured his friend that this was something that he could do. Yet, he was poised to turn the boat around in the morning. "I'm not sure we're doing the right thing."

"What?" Ritchie blinked, clearly surprised.

"I think turning around might be a mistake," he continued to explain. "Ash told me to trust him, and I do. But I'm not showing that at all if I second guess him so much that I can't follow simple instruction without doubting him."

"I think it's a trap," Ritchie shook his head slightly in disagreement. "Why would Ash ever put us on a boat with someone who might be affiliated with Galactic?"

"I don't know," Brock admitted. "But Clyde insists he isn't with Galactic, and just thought that we were. I can't explain that. But I know that Ash promised us the whole story once we arrive at Iron Island."

"Can we risk it?" Ritchie put out there. "Clyde says that this administrator, or whoever, gave him instructions. What if Ash is being held hostage? What if Galactic still has him? The phone call could have been a trick. He was being threatened and forced to make it."

"Ash wouldn't give up our location," Brock shook his head, not buying it.

"Maybe not," Ritchie suggested gently, "but what if it wasn't _him_ that they were threatening?"

That sent a torrent of new thoughts and ideas into Brock's mind. If Ash hadn't somehow escaped Galactic, it was entirely plausible that they were threatening his pokemon or their friends for information out of him. Would Ash have caved and called them?

"If that's the case," Brock decided firmly, "he still needs help. And I'm not going back to Goldenrod to live in a basement when my friend is either in serious trouble or counting on me to arrive on schedule."

"Alright," Ritchie nodded subtly, but it was a hesitant agreement that Brock suspected was borne out of few alternate options. "Fair enough. Are you going to let Brenda and Forrest come along, then?"

Brock closed his eyes for a moment, reluctant to answer.

"Let me take care of them," he settled on with a sigh. "Just get ready for the morning. I don't know if it's going to be pretty."

Below deck, the owner of the boat removed one shoe. From inside a device fell to the floor with a clatter that made him jump slightly and look back at the door leading above deck nervously. Then he pressed a single button and raised it to one ear.

"Nelson?" He whispered urgently. His eyes darted back and forth. There was a silence as whoever was on the other line replied. "Can you still track my boat like you used to? I need you."

When the phone eventually clicked shut, all those above deck remained blissfully unaware.


	30. Iron Island

Sorry about the slight delay people, I never got around the editing the chapter yesterday and I have a strict habit of doing that (at least a dozen times...) before posting anything. This chapter was originally meant to be longer, but it would take me another two days to muster time to edit that portion, so I think to make up for it I'll just be posting the next chapter a day or so sooner than usual. Does this matter to you? Probably not, but eh, it makes me feel better!

**Disclaimer: I don't own Pokemon. Or there would be guns.**

* * *

The next morning Brock paced above deck while gripping his chin indecisively. Nearby Forrest was facing the ocean looking rather unhappy, and about what was no mystery. Brock had sent Ritchie below deck to retrieve Clyde, who he was intent on hearing out.

"We don't know why Ash wants us to do what he wants us to do, Forrest," Brock spoke up with his back turned, trying to reason with his younger brother. "I just have a feeling that we're being too suspicious of that man."

"Since when are you ever afraid of being too suspicious?" Forrest grumbled lowly. Brock sighed but did not pursue an argument. He was certain that, like most things, his brother would take this decision personally. There was no way to win with Forrest. "We don't even know if this is what Ash wanted us to do."

"So you're done holding me hostage on my own boat, then?" Clyde's voice cut through the air angrily as he shouldered away from Ritchie up the stairs. He ran a hand through his hair and stared with harsh eyes at Brock, holding out both hands. "It's not like I even have any weapons on me."

Brock noticed briefly the widening of Brenda's eyes across the boat, but it was only a split second later that something struck him hard in the back and he flew forward, hitting the deck with a smack. He blinked and noticed a drop of blood fall from his lip to the white tile, shaking his head briefly and getting back up to his feet quickly as the sound of Brenda's scream and Forrest's cry reached his ears. When he spun around he found not an active attacker, but a man standing on the edge of the boat with a rather large creature perched next to him. Leathery wings, pale violet exoskeleton, the gligar was a large one for the species.

"Who the hell are you?" Forrest was shouting. "You think you can just swoop in here and just –"

"Forrest!" Brock interrupted, ignoring the good that his brother was trying to do. He had noticed the man's attire - a classic Team Galactic uniform. His heart beat a bit faster.

"You can call me Nelson," the young man introduced, looking narrow-eyed and annoyed. His hair fell around his neck in lavender strands – something about the man seemed familiar, but Brock was certain that he couldn't know him. He looked the same age as Clyde. In fact, the more Brock stared, the more they seemed to look very, _very _alike. "I've heard there's been some trouble with my twin."

It wasn't a question so much as an irritated statement. Clyde was suddenly looking much less indignant and more smug, and with a couple glances back and forth between them Brock realized that they could be nothing but brothers. They looked so similar that, should Clyde have grown stubble, the two would be impossible to tell apart besides their hair.

"Actually," Brock spoke slowly. He had both hands out in a passive gesture, but at the same time he wanted to make it clear that they were not about to be taken prisoners of anyone. "I have much trouble with you than with him."

"You know, I really don't like hearing that my brother needs my help," the man glanced at his nails in a bored fashion. Beside him, the gligar was eyeing Ritchie like a snack. "Especially when I'm working."

"You didn't have to come if –"

"It's not your fault," Nelson shrugged off any apology that Clyde may have been about to produce. "This doesn't look like it's going to take long to resolve. Especially since that one right there can fetch me a hefty promotion."

Brock took a deep breath when the newcomer pointed lazily in his direction. All hopes that he hadn't been recognized were dashed.

"I told you he was with Galactic," Forrest cursed, but Clyde crossed his arms.

"Believe whatever you want," the dark-haired twin rolled his eyes. "I'm_ not_ with Galactic."

"Anymore," Nelson smirked, and the other young man actually blew a raspberry his way. Brock felt something akin to frustration boiling in his chest. Here they were with a deadline and a destination to meet, with a new Team Galactic arrival on the scene who seemed to be suggesting that he was going to attempt to bring Brock in, and they were blowing raspberries at one another like children. He took another breath.

"Listen," he began, getting both of their attentions, "as you seem to have realized, we aren't exactly a group that enjoys Galactic company – and vice versa. So if you think we're going to go anywhere with you –"

"Hold it," Clyde raised a hand, and Brock raised an eyebrow, "I'll save you the trouble. You can't take these guys in, Nel."

_Nel. Now they're using nicknames. What am I supposed to make of this?_

Brock was torn between feeling afraid, like he would with any Galactic member in his midst, and feeling somewhat like an annoyed babysitter.

"Excuse me?" The lavender-haired twin gaped rather obviously. "I took time away from my assignment to come save you and you aren't even going to let me?"

"I don't need saving," Clyde explained, "I need to ship these four from point A to point B. So 'help'…yeah, I could use some of that. But saving, no."

"I don't think you get it," Nelson slapped a hand over his forehead. "That one there is worth a promotion! Do you hear me?"

"His name is Brock," Brenda hissed.

"No,_ you_ don't get it," Clyde carried on unfazed. "All four of them together are worth our parents."

There was a moment of intense silence. Between the pair Brock could sense emotions running high, like some kind of invisible highway connecting them across the boat. Clyde looked calm and assured, whereas his brother shocked, and then angry.

"Our parents are long gone, Clyde!" He shouted suddenly. "Can't you let it go?"

"Not when there's still a chance," the other man crossed his arms. Brock got ready to interject when Nelson rounded on them.

"Below deck!" He commanded, and when there was a hesitation to obey he withdrew a pistol and brandished it wildly. All his previous thoughts on feeling like an annoyed adult in the presence of two bickering teenagers vanished. "Did I_ stutter_?"

* * *

The sound of boots smacking against the ground woke Ash from his nap. Pikachu chittered beside him and hopped into his lap as the sound approached closer, the fire beside them still letting off light smoke from their lunch earlier. He pulled his jacket closer around himself – this close to the sea at the time of year it was created a chill that made Ash miss Pallet Town's mild seasons. He was not used to the cold air that seemed to linger in Sinnoh at all times, nor did he care for it much.

"Ketchum," Jupiter burst through the bushes. As always, it took him a moment to adjust to seeing her with her hair haphazardly pulled back into a single ponytail and donning civilian clothing. "They're here."

Suddenly alert, Ash got to his feet and darted after her as she rushed through the bushes towards the sea. Just before reaching the beach Jupiter grabbed him and they both hunkered down, remaining covered as they watched the boat approach.

"Can you see anyone yet?" He inquired, peering through the leaves. He no longer flinched when the ex-administrator made grabs at him.

"No, I – _shit."_

"What?" He turned his head to stare at the woman, who didn't answer. He glanced back to find several people stepping off the boat – one of whom he recognized as Brock. He wanted to sigh with relief that they were here and alive, but Jupiter's behavior concerned him. Her expression was not conducive with him relaxing. "What, what are you swearing about?"

Still there was no answer. He looked back again to find more passengers disembarking, though two he distinctly did not recognize at all.

"One of them shouldn't be here," Jupiter's reply finally came.

"What do you mean?" He demanded quietly, but once again she was unresponsive. "Are my friends in danger?"

Lips still sealed, she glanced at him in a way that told him all that he needed to know.

"Hey!" He stood, marching out of the cover abruptly. He could hear Jupiter let out a stream of quiet curses after him, but ignored her and strode onto the beach, Pikachu hopping across the sand after him. "Who are you?"

The newly disembarked party froze briefly, his four companions warming when they caught sight of him, Brenda even sighing with relief. But the two strangers stared uneasily, sending a glance between each other. Ash stared at one of the pair especially intently. He recognized the man from somewhere, he was certain...but he looked so young that it was impossible that were true. Still, he kept one eye on him as he spoke.

"Did you hear me?" He demanded harshly again. "Who are the both of you?"

"You don't know either one of them?" Brock blinked in confusion, suddenly looking less at ease.

"I told you it was a set-up!" Forrest cried, taking a few steps back towards the boat.

"You can't leave!" One of the strangers cried, but the other called out an insect-looking pokemon with large leathery wings.

"Hey, hey!" Ash cried, throwing out his hands as the gligar screeched. The man in uniform would have normally alarmed him, but he had known that Jupiter had called a supposedly former member of Team Galactic to assist him. Perhaps this was the man. "Aren't you Clyde?"

"That's Clyde," the man glared at him while pointing, in unison with the other man who pointed opposite and introduced his counterpart.

"That's Nelson."

Ash stared at the pair for a moment longer. This Nelson looked familiar, far more familiar than he could explain. But before he could contemplate it any longer Pikachu let off an unfriendly spark, to which the gligar screeched unnecessarily and spread his wings. The man named Nelson did nothing to control his pokemon as it rose into the air. Ash's starter seemed to deem this a threat worth tackling, as he began to build up charge in his cheeks.

"You're Clyde?" Ash pointed, blinking. God, who was he supposed to be putting his trust in here?

"Are you Ketchum?" The other man asked. The conversation was interrupted when Nelson's gligar let out a violent cry and shook suddenly in the air, a product of Pikachu's electric shock.

"Pikachu!" Ash scolded while the rodent side-eyed him irritably. Nelson at the same time called for his gligar, bunching his face into an expression of anger and thrusting out a finger at the electric-type.

"Look, I don't really care who you are," the man suddenly looked fed up, "but I have been on a boat for days with this damn cargo and a promotion right under my nose that I am apparently not allowed to take. Get your little sewer rattata together or I'm going to have my gligar sic him!"

A flash of anger coursed through his veins. It occurred to him ever so briefly that Gary had referred to Pikachu as names perhaps just as badly and yet Ash had never bothered to reprimand him for it.

"How about you show him what you're made of then, Pikachu?" He offered defensively, and his starter perked his ears as if he might have heard his trainer wrong. But in the next moment he let out a challenging squeak and rushed forward, sparking the entire way.

Suddenly a dark streak came zipping through the Pikachu's path, disrupting the electric-type's attack which he halted surprisingly abruptly for the abrasive starter. Ash had been known to get nailed even himself when he strayed in the way of Pikachu's oncoming attacks, but when he blinked and realized it was Gary's umbreon rushing across the beach, his eyes followed her to her destination.

In the boat he suddenly noticed the figure of a woman, frozen in alarm as the dark-type raced towards her. It took him a moment to put the face to the name.

"Jupiter?" He cried out, both confused and angry.

"Excuse me?" The man name Nelson procured a pistol, pointing it in the ex-administrator's direction. Alarm bells went off like mad inside his head, and he held out his hands in an attempt to deescalate the situation. "Trying to steal my brother's boat?"

"Don't shoot!" Ash cried out, more concerned for Gary's umbreon than for the former admin. In that moment the dark-type hit her target, knocking Jupiter with audible force to the floor of the deck and hissing wildly. In a flash, all seven people were aboard the craft.

"What are you doing?" Ash snapped, losing any patience he might have had left. He shoved Umbreon aside, who had done no damage other than subduing her target, and pulled the ex-admin roughly to her feet again. Her eyes wide, the woman glowered at Nelson.

"Nothing," she hissed, and with an offended jolt Ash realized that she had in fact been trying to board the boat and ship out – without him, without anyone.

_What did I expect?_

But he had no time to deal with this. He wanted to get Brock, Forrest, Brenda and Ritchie back to their – his? – camp site and explain. Whether or not any of these Galactic, or former Galactic members accompanied him he was not concerned with. Yes, he did want access to Jupiter's wealth of information, but he couldn't waste time dragging her along if she were going to attempt to run off at every opportunity.

"You know what," he held out his hands, eyeing each member of the group individually. "I'd like to keep this as civil as possible. So the four of them are going to come with me, and the three of you can work out whatever you'd like to do…here. Jupiter," he spared her a quick glance, "you know where to find me if you want to."

"Who says you're allowed to just walk away like that?" Nelson demanded, but Ash continued off the boat and beckoned his friends to follow. Umbreon and Pikachu led the way a few feet ahead, both glancing backwards every now and then. To Ash, it looked as if the dark-type had an irritated look on her face. "I need the gym leader!"

"Please don't make me call my other pokemon out," Ash sighed, quite done with the entire ordeal, "we're leaving, and we're going to let you leave. Everyone wins."

That night the five of them had returned to where he and Jupiter had been hunkering down for the past few days – an abandoned few cabins that had once been occupied by miners. Iron Island had once upon a time been a very active mining site for the people of Sinnoh, but that was many dozen years ago and it had since been sucked dry of any valuables. The barracks themselves were falling apart and not maintained throughout the years, but they had beds and bathrooms, and so for Ash and his company they would have to do.

"So Gary and Misty are still there."

Ash stared off into the fading sun. The other three members of their group having retired for the night, he and Brock were restlessly seated on the porch of the cabin, both running their hands through their hair and sighing periodically. Ash had given the entire group the rundown on what had happened in their absence, as well as vice versa (which to Ash sounded like a whole lot of nothing at all, but he wasn't going to be the one to point that out) but he was willing to go into more detail with Brock. Despite what rift his disappearance should have created between them, Brock Harrison had been the most ready of his friends to rebuild what they had once had. In fact, there were times when Ash nearly forgot the time they had spent apart, as if the time they spent together now could somehow be layered over it.

"Yeah," he patted Pikachu, who was settled beside him. "I tried to get them out too. I really did."

"I believe it," Brock assured him. "You shouldn't let what Gary said to you bother you so much."

Of course, Ash hadn't mentioned everything. He hadn't mentioned the kiss. Nor had he mentioned the history – no, that wasn't right – the _whatever_ they had from before. He was certain that he could…Ash considered Brock the very opposite of judgmental. But he didn't want to imagine if they were all free in the future, and Brock having to see them interact and watching Gary blow him off completely, knowing all the while how much it bothered him.

_But it doesn't bother me._

"I know," he said, but he didn't believe it.

"Not because he's right," Brock went on to clarify, "and I'm not even trying to say that he didn't mean it. Maybe he did. But you shouldn't let it bother you because it's not important."

Really he wanted to ask how on earth it wasn't important, but he merely nodded unconvincingly.

"Think of where we are," he let out a sigh, glancing around the landscape. "An island off of Sinnoh, living in abandoned miner's barracks. We're trying to devise a plan to free several people from a corrupt government, and more than that we hope to one day free an entire nation."

Ash glanced over at Brock, who was watching him with a barely visible smile.

"Just think about it," he chuckled a little, "do you honestly care what Gary Oak thinks of you right now?"

He sighed and let out a quiet laugh more out of hopelessness than anything else. Brock smiled – to him it must have seemed that Ash was realizing how ridiculous it sounded to be upset over something someone had said to him at a time like this. And he was realizing how ridiculous it was, but that was not what made him laugh. What made him laugh was the fact that even when he acknowledged how trivial he and Gary were in the grand scheme of things, he still cared so much that it kept him up at night.

_It bothers me._

"Hey!"

Both men looked up into the night, alert. Beside Brock, Umbreon got to her paws and searched the darkness with glowing eyes. Then, several forms emerged from the trees.

"Jupiter?" Ash whispered, confused. Sure, he had offered her the chance to come back with him, but he had never expected her to actually take it. Not after she had tried to make off with Clyde's boat.

"She's not alone," Brock commented. Coming up behind her were the two other men themselves, Clyde and Nelson. Concerned, he got to his feet and prodded Pikachu in warning, unsure what to expect from their company.

"Ketchum," Jupiter came to a pause before him, glancing back at the two men periodically. He couldn't tell if the pair made her nervous per se, but they certainly didn't make her comfortable. "You're planning on trying to rescue your friends who are still imprisoned, aren't you?"

"Well," Ash began slowly, taken aback. He had never actually mentioned anything about this to Jupiter. "As soon as I can come up with something feasible, yeah. But how do you –"

"I'm not an idiot," she crossed her arms. He noticed the men behind her were standing quite close, glancing between each other and hovering as if to guard her. "You're not the type to make off and save yourself, which by the way would be the intelligent thing to do."

"So then why are you standing here in front of me?" He proposed the question genuinely. "If making off and saving yourself is the most intelligent thing to do, why aren't you long gone?"

"Don't flatter yourself," she rolled her eyes. "What do you think I tried to pull off earlier? I'm not here to be of any use to you. These clowns behind me have it in their mind to break into Galactic's base for their parents. They're not exactly letting me go in peace without me holding up my end of the bargain."

"So now you're about being fair?" Ash crossed his arms as well. "Why don't you just sneak off tonight and leave them hanging? It wouldn't be surprising from you."

"She wouldn't want me to catch her trying that," Nelson sneered, but Jupiter let out a snort.

"You wouldn't catch me, kid," she dismissed him, turning her attention back to Ash. "You see, I also have some investment in making my way into Galactic's Sinnoh base one final time. So I've got a little proposition to offer you."

"Are you sure we should be listening to her, Ash?" Brock piped up, but Ash held out his hand.

"You want to get back inside and save your friends, don't you?" She raised her eyebrows. "These two want to get inside and save their parents. I happen to want something similar. We're all on the same page, you see? I'm sure you'll agree with me that there is no point in the three of our groups orchestrating separate missions into the heart of Team Galactic. Statistically speaking, we'd be increasing the odds that at least one of us fails. But if we all go together…" she trailed off, extending her arms and glancing around poisonously at the four men around her, "...everyone wins."

"Or everyone loses," Brock pointed out solemnly. "Who's to say you aren't planning on handing us over once we're inside?"

"Handing you over to whom, exactly?" Jupiter smirked, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Cyrus wants a bullet put in my head, and all turning any of you in would earn me is perhaps a thank you before he did it."

"He wants Mars to put a bullet in your head, actually," Nelson pointed out insensitively. "Which is exactly what will happen to you if you don't stay true to the agreement you made with my brother."

Jupiter blinked and spun around rather quickly.

"Mars was assigned my case?" Her tone was genuine, confused, and perhaps even nervous. It bothered him slightly to hear the ex-admin sound such a way, and so he interrupted before the conversation track could be continued.

"Alright," he cleared his throat, capturing everyone's attention again. "Say I like the way your idea sounds. What's the plan? How would we pull this off?"

Nelson rifled something from his uniform pocket with a smirk, and dangled it in front of himself a bit mockingly. Ash leaned in to get a better look, like he was looking into the face of pure gold.

"We'll put it off with these," he jangled the keys noisily. "Judging by what I've learned about my superiors today -" he glanced at Jupiter briefly, who narrowed her eyes, "- I think it's time for Top Grunt Nelson to move on to bigger and better schemes."

* * *

"We are so close, so incredibly close – I can hardly stand it."

The room, full of countless rows of files and drawers, was occupied solely by two elderly men. One was pacing restlessly, a twitching grin on his face and wild eyes. The other man was seated on the floor, a rather undignified position for such a distinguished professor, but he didn't appear to be very bothered. His face was sullen, one hand cuffed to the leg of the metal table next to him, legs folded.

"Yes," he said without inflection, "so you've said."

The other man was not bothered. He was rubbing his hands together and rereading notes while he walked. Then a light on the device on his wrist began to blink, and he paused, considering it. Gathering his apparent giddiness under control, he cleared his throat and turned to the man on the floor.

"Leader Cyrus is summoning me," he announced, heading for the door without a second thought. "I'll retrieve you when I return. There's no time for me to delay – not when we are so close!"

Charon scurried down a hall of files, where he disappeared. When the sound of the heavy door closing presumably behind his lab partner reached his ears, Professor Oak let out a heavy sigh and used his free hand to reach into his shoe.

_I suppose age can't always bring wisdom._

The old man smiled to himself, procuring a small screwdriver. He eyed the handcuffs for a moment but passed over them, favoring the leg of the table beside him. He went to work immediately, unscrewing the nails holding the leg in place. Though the floor end was still secured into the tile, he now had a small space where the leg was no longer attached to the flat top, and it was here that he slipped the handcuff through.

The professor got to his feet and for a moment, he sighed at the simplicity of it. He and Charon worked in a lab where they not only acted as scientists, but mechanics, as they were the only personnel allowed inside. Anything that might break was up to the two of them to fix. How could Charon not see that sooner or later, he would have access to some kind of tool allowing him to escape?

Oak chose not to dwell on that now. He was being treated much poorer as of late, and he assumed that it had something to do with the bullet wound that he had put in Cyrus' hand. Instead, he got to work immediately, recalling in his head the names of those who had caught his attention around the base. Information on those who had authority could very possibly prove useful, and Oak was certain that this could be his only chance with access to it. Up and down each hallway he roamed, collecting one, two, and then three files. When he came upon the fourth he was searching for, he pulled it out of its place and eyed it carefully. A large black 'X' was sloppily painted over the entire cover, something lacking from the other files. After a moment's consideration with a troubled expression, he found he could not bring himself to pry into her business in such a way, and carefully placed it back where it belonged.

From his newly acquired files, Oak removed the information inside, leaving only an empty manila folder. Keeping each individual set of papers clipped together, he placed them inside his own folder of information from the lab. Then he returned the empty folders to their places, and headed back to the table – where he proceeded to handcuff himself back to the leg, screwing back in each nail and returning to his cross-legged position.

Only this time he had a little light reading to keep himself busy.


	31. Who's Really in Charge, Here?

Whoaaaaa, latest I've ever been with an update. Not exactly proud of it, but midterms week happened and...well, you guys can imagine the excuses. The point is that the chapter is here now, and I'm working on catching up. It's spring break and all, so there'll be plenty of time for that! Huzzah.

Also, **FeraNelia, **you are the 100th reviewer! Which means I'm going to continue my fun little policy (well, it's fun for me, anyway) and extend the offer to you of a Pokemon one-shot of your choice request, should you want it. Pairings, angst, any and all of that depends on the preferences you set for the one-shot. If you come up with anything you'd like to see, let me know!

**Disclaimer: I don't own Pokemon, or my updates would probably have to come out on time. **

* * *

"Ash Ketchum, is that you?"

The trainer let out a sigh of both relief and impending frustration, which was always sure to follow closely behind May Maple's introductions. Though there was still hope for him to avoid that as he leaned back into the couch, alone in his – or well, at least temporarily his – living room. It was only Ritchie's cell phone pressed to his ear, not the bouncy brunette actually in his company.

"Yeah, May," he confirmed with a chuckle. "It's me."

"You have _so_ much to tell me about!" She exploded, and he held the phone away from his ear until she continued. "But really, you do, which is why I'm coming to help you."

"Wait, what?" He blinked, sitting up. "What do you mean?"

"What, you're going to need help, aren't you?" She reiterated. "That's why I'm coming to you and I'm bringing reinforcements. You didn't think I was just sitting in my hometown all this time, did you?"

"What have you been doing, then?" His brow furrowed, further confused.

"Hmph," she muffled, "I'll pretend that you didn't think that about me and I'll tell you. Petalburg is totally behind the cause, Ash. Plus, I'm basically the gym leader here now. If Dad would just hand me over the paperwork I could honestly take over and everyone would be just fine with it."

"So, wait –" he tried to get a handle on the conversation, but May was already snowballing.

"Whitney gave me the rundown about what's going on with you guys," she continued, "and trust me, you'll need the help. It's not like I'll bring the whole city or anything. Just the willing volunteers who meet my standards. Sound good?"

"May, we're not waiting for you tonight –"

"Great," he could practically hear her smile through the phone, blissfully ignoring him, "I'll see you as soon as I can!"

The line went dead. With one hand he dropped the phone and it plopped soundlessly into the cushions of the couch as he smacked a hand over his face.

"Hey, Ash!"

He tried not to sigh and looked over the edge of the couch at who might be calling him. Talks with May were not the most relaxing, and seeing as he had no idea what to expect from her now he was not up for any more surprises. But in the doorway to the place stood Brock, a man of very little surprises and who valued stability above most else, and so he let his shoulders sag.

"You up for any training?" The man inquired, in his hand he held out a pokeball. "Everybody's trying to get a little practice in before the break-in plan. Brenda's been buffing up her heracross with whatever it can take, but the little guy is no match for Nidoking yet. I think he could use a workout."

Ash smiled and patted the pikachu beside him.

"Alright. You're on."

* * *

Professor Oak had not been fully expecting what he had come to know from the files he had stolen. Borrowed, he thought personally, was a better word for it, as he had not harmed the documents and fully intended to return them. But they had told him things that put ideas in his head – ideas questioning the true stability of Team Galactic and the loyalty of its employees. Since there had been no Cyrus file, which had not surprised him, the leader behind it all remained an enigma. But Oak was certain that there was work to be done with the information he had come across.

_Annabelle Elizabeth Mars. Female. Hometown –_

The knowledge bounced about his head unsettlingly. He gripped the folders and kept himself firmly seated in the lab chair, watching chemicals boil and pop around him.

_- victim in a kidnapping case –_

He blinked and tried to think of something else.

_- previous occupations, rogue pokemon bounty hunter –_

And then it worked, and he thought of something else, but it troubled him even more than his previous musings on the administrator's files. The face of a woman he knew somewhat, the Champion of Johto, sobbing hysterically in Cyrus' office.

_"You said that you could fix her!"_

_"We tried, did we not, Karen? At least she does not remember the attack she suffered, just as you wished. I warned you that there could be risks."_

_"She doesn't know me! She doesn't know her own mother!"_

He swallowed. It was thick and unwilling, but slid down his throat unpleasantly. Karen had taken her daughter back to Johto and sworn that her allegiances with Sinnoh and Team Galactic were over. Professor Oak had expected this to worry Cyrus, but the man had merely looked at him with the same stony expression as always.

_"Aren't you concerned?_" The professor had tried to keep his expression unreadable, but the scene had shaken him_. "Karen leads Johto. She could cause trouble for you."_

Much to his disliking, the man had smirked somewhat, one of the only expressions Oak had ever seen him display. He had flexed his wounded hand a bit, for which he was still receiving physical therapy, and glanced at Oak out of the corner of his eye in a way that still gave him chills.

_"Soon I will not need alliances, Professor. Things are falling into place, plans coming to fruition. But you know that, don't you?"_

He hadn't replied.

_"I will not need allegiances where I am going, Professor. Not ones from this world."_

* * *

The closer night crept, the more Ash quieted. He could not keep the nagging edge of worry from his mind no matter how much training he threw himself into. He began to think harder about their plan and found himself wishing that the entire thing did not rest solely on his shoulders.

Perhaps it didn't. Maybe he was underestimating Brock, Ritchie and the rest. He knew that they had leadership qualities. Brock had led a family and a gym – hell, he still did. In all logic he was better suited as a leader than Ash was, who had little to no official experience in the category. Yet somehow he had become the man in charge of orchestrating this plot, and not Brock. It wasn't a job he particularly wanted. Ash considered himself someone who could lead – with a considerable amount of blundering along the way, and there was no room for blunders tonight.

He wished for Gary briefly, before recalling what an ass the other man was. Gary could lead. If Ash had half the confidence that Gary did, he could carry out this plot without a hitch. Rather than continue to drive himself mad with questions that had no answers, Ash stepped outside with Pikachu at his heels and spotted Brock. He asked the man to gather the rest of their group and once they had assembled outside his house, he cleared his throat.

"Alright, everyone," he began. Brenda was freshly braiding her hair, Ritchie looked somewhat sleepy. Brock and Forrest looked equally attentive, their similarities evident even in the fading light. If not for the actual twins standing beside them on either side of Jupiter, he might have been able to mistake them for a pair. "I want to go over who is going to be where tonight. Jupiter?"

He noticed how his friends looked at him strangely when he handed the conversation off to the ex-admin. In fact, she looked a bit surprised herself. To him it only seemed logical. She had the most knowledge of Team Galactic's inner workings and the entire reason he wanted to keep her around was her mind. She had helped him escape before and he was certain that with her help they could pull of a similar heist. The two of them had been alone for days without incident, even if she had tried to run off at the first arousal of a sizable distraction. If she were planning to harm him, he was certain she would have done so already.

"You're asking me?" She blinked, and then quickly replaced her look with a serious expression. "More of you should head to the dungeon than not. There will be more work to do there. I will take a different route to get to the father of these two," she gestured with a thumb at the twins on either side of her, "I can go alone."

"No way," Clyde interjected, "you aren't going anywhere alone. I don't trust you not to take off without him."

"I'm hurt," Jupiter said dryly, sounding as if nothing had ever hurt her less in her life, "what a strong sense of faith in me from my old grunt."

"I'll come with you," Clyde stated, and Ash made a mental note to delve further into the history of the three of them.

"Then I'm coming with_ you,_" Nelson crossed his arms.

"No," Jupiter returned. "Go with Ketchum, three is too many. My situation will be of much higher risks –"

"Which is why my brother isn't going without me," Nelson insisted more forcefully. He looked to his twin for back up, but Clyde held out his hand.

"I'll be fine, Nel," he shrugged as if it would be nothing. The other brother stared for a moment before sighing, billowing a crystal breath into the chilly air.

"Are you sure?" He raised his eyebrows gently, a strange expression to see on the by far harsher of the twins. Clyde nodded. "Fine."

The planning continued. The glares Forrest sent periodically in the direction of his older brother went unnoticed by Ash.

"How will we get in unnoticed?" Brenda inquired.

"Me," Nelson spoke up again, having regained his slight attitude since working out the groups. He shrugged nonchalantly. "I'll take over guard duty at one of the entrances and let you all in. Call it low-level grunt punishment for ignoring Administrator Mars' pages."

"Mars has been paging you?" Clyde burst at the same time that Jupiter exclaimed, "you've been ignoring Mars' pages?"

Ash wondered how serious a grievance this could be.

"Don't panic," Nelson rolled his eyes. "I'm done working for Galactic, remember? They sort of held my parents as bait to keep me around and lied to me about it, and I don't really appreciate that."

"So Mars is angry," Jupiter muttered. "Great. Very conducive to a successful break-in."

"Mars is always angry," Nelson shrugged.

"Yeah," Clyde agreed. "She's shot like, ten percent of grunts to ever work under her."

"Oh, shut it," Jupiter snapped irritably. "That's a rumor."

Ash hushed the argument before it could really begin. He truly didn't have time to worry about how many people Administrator Mars had shot, so long as none of them became a part of that statistic. Night continued upon them until it had begun to cast darkness over the island. Under its cover they made their way to Clyde's boat and sped off for the mainland. The ocean splashed up at them and raced at their sides, but hardly any words were exchanged aside from light teasing on Nelson's part about the growing in of Clyde's roots, which though meant to relieve tension for the brothers did not seem to achieve much. Eerie silence had set in over nervous minds. Touching down, Ash found himself alert to every sight and sound. The water sloshing at their boat as they anchored it, the frigid air that seemed to grow even cooler the farther inland they marched. There was nothing but trees and worn paths for what seemed like a great deal of time, and as the clocks crept past midnight across the region the group stopped for a rest. Ritchie had stayed back at the boat to keep guard over their method of escape, and the rest of them alternated naps until once again they continued.

When the great Galactic Sinnoh base building came into their view, Ash tried to keep a reign on the nerves tightening his chest. He really, truly did not want to go back in there. Without a shadow of a doubt, he wished he already had his friends at his sides and that he could be sprinting back to the boat. But the hardest part was yet to come and he knew that it had to be done.

"Alright," he whispered, crouched in the bushes. "This is where you come in, Nelson."

The young man nodded. From his uniform pocket he removed a small device, held down the top and spoke.

"Administrator?"

The reply came back crystal clear and swift.

"Is that my long lost top grunt paging me?" The female voice was laced with fury. "Funny, I was starting to think perhaps I needed to promote a new top grunt under my charge! Where the hell have you been?"

"My apologies, Administrator, I –"

"No, no," she cut him off, "you seem to have misunderstood. I don't_ care_ where you've been. What I care is that you have_ not_ been here and I have _summoned_ you repeatedly and you are to _report to me immediately!_ Understood, sweetheart?"

"Yes, Administrator," Nelson kept a straight face and steady voice, but as soon as the page ended he growled something low under his breath. "Alright. I'm going to replace the guard at the east entrance right here. I'll tell him Mars sent me and to take it up with her if he has a problem with it. No grunt is going to ignore a command that he thinks is sent straight from that maniac –"

"That's your administrator you're talking about!" Jupiter snapped quietly and harshly.

"Not anymore!" Nelson returned. "The point is, we should have enough time before anyone finds out I'm not supposed to be there. We'll be long gone by then, if we're lucky."

"And if we're not lucky?" Brenda piped up quietly. Nobody answered her.

Nelson vanished through the trees and they watched silently, until it became apparent that the other man had been sent away. Then they approached.

"It's going on early morning," Nelson instructed them, "that's when the least amount of grunts are working. If things start to get shady, I'll have to page Mars and send out some kind of alert that distracts everyone working. I'll send them to the west side of the building, so stay away from there. Ash, just try and be quick – and Clyde, you'll be alright, Jupiter knows what she's doing."

It was the first complimentary comment Ash had heard the twins and Jupiter exchange, but the ex-admin only nodded curtly in response and ushered the other brother after her down the hall. Ash gestured for Brock, Forrest and Brenda to follow him as they peered around corners and made their way to the prisoner's hold. Several patrolling grunts were dodged only with the assistance of Pikachu's hearing ability, and when they reached the hallway which Ash knew led down to the dungeon he let out a large gust of air to find the doorway unguarded and unlocked. Upon second thought, he noted that prisoners which were chained to the walls would probably not need a locked door to keep them in.

"Down here," Ash urged, ushering Brock and Forrest below. "Brenda, keep an eye out for us?"

The braided woman nodded. The dungeon brought back a slew of recent memories as he descended into its depths, and when he reached the end of the staircase and looked up, it was a blue pair of eyes he could never fail to recognize that he met first.

"Ash?" Gary blinked. The look on his face read relief and disbelief, and Misty's expression beside him echoed it. It was not an expression that correlated with a person who had supposedly had such an intact plan that they had denied escape before. Instead of replying, he hurried to delegate instructions.

"Alright, Brock," he began quickly and quietly, "call out Nidoking –"

"Salvador!" Forrest's voice cut through entirely too loudly, and both he and Brock harshly shushed him. But when the oldest brother's eyes landed on their chained counterpart, he lost his resolve.

"Salvador," the eldest seemed to abandon the plan entirely and fell in front of his haggard brother. "Are you alright? My God –"

"Brock," Ash said gently, earning back his full attention. "We want out of here before any alarms sound, remember?"

Brock turned to look at him and nodded curtly, but there was something else to be found in his expression. It looked stone cold and unfamiliar to him, and so he turned away to give the trio of brothers space.

"What is this, rescue round two?" Ash followed the voice to a face, allowing him to look away from Brock, Forrest and Salvador to find a face that he recognized even from so long ago. Aged and tired, Jessie still looked unmistakably herself, and sounded not nearly as weak as she appeared. And suddenly it occurred to him – the twins, following them around and helping them for the sake of their imprisoned parents – they simply had to be the children of Jessie and James, and that explained the eerie feeling of having met Nelson before because he simply looked so much like James that it could not be denied. Only Clyde's black hair had prevented him from making the same connection to the other brother, and Ash had overheard Nelson teasing his brother earlier that very same night about having dyed it that way.

"Brock," Ash tried again more forcefully. There was no time for reunions just yet. He could feel Gary's stare burning holes in the side of his turned face. "We aren't out of the woods yet. We need Nidoking, now."

Brock called out the poison-type, who nearly touched the ceiling of the dungeon and kept him quiet with a few treats before ordering him to snap the chains from the prisoner's wrists. Starting with Salvador, Brock pulled his younger brother into an embrace that he accepted with a weak but genuine smile before Forrest could so much as take a step. One by one they were freed, though when Nidoking came upon Gary, the behemoth sniffed the man and then snorted with disgust.

"What, and you smell like a fresh bouquet?" Gary huffed. "Just get me out of here, will you?"

Normally the sight might have brought him some comic relief, even under the circumstances. But the sound of Gary's voice was not exactly something he was enjoying at the moment. He did his best to focus on the task at hand.

"Everybody out?" He glanced around. Gary was rubbing his wrists, and Ash could tell that he was trying to catch eye contact with him.

_No. Not here, not now._

"Alright. Then let's go."

* * *

"Are you sure my dad is around here?"

"I'm one of those who kept him here, aren't I?" Jupiter replied impatiently. As they hurried down the hallways of cells, ignoring prisoners who cried out for them, an alarm began to blare.

"Shit!" Jupiter cursed, running faster. Clyde began to look nervous beside her.

"What's going on?" He demanded. "Did we set off an alarm?"

"Maybe," she admitted honestly, panting as she went. "That or your brother was forced to make a distraction. Or the other group has been spotted."

Before more questions could be posed, she came to an abrupt halt, reaching out to grasp Clyde's forearm and pull him to a stop as well. Then, she removed the set of keys she still carried from her civilian belt.

"You know," she glanced at him and muttered as she unlocked the door, "we wouldn't have had to do this to him if you hadn't put the idea of leaving Galactic into your brother's head."

Clyde might have scowled or retorted, but faced with his father for the first time in a year the young man was left speechless. James was emerging from a slumber on a metal bench, the only object in his cell besides a toilet, and Clyde closed the gap between them and knelt down shakily.

"Dad?" He muttered, nudging him a bit. The man stirred and blinked sleepily, looking up into the face that nearly mirrored a younger version of his own. "Dad?"

James blinked again, narrowing his eyes, like the figure before him was an illusion. Then he suddenly woke all at once, throwing himself into a sitting position and staring almost nervously.

"Clyde?"

The father wrapped the son into a long-awaited embrace. They squeezed one another with the weight of every day spent unsure if they would ever meet again. When they pulled apart, James kept his hands on his son's shoulders, eyes glossy.

"How did you get here?" He murmured, just now becoming aware of the blaring alarm and looking around in puzzlement. "Where did you get the keys to my cell?"

"I don't have the keys," Clyde went to explain, motioning behind him, "I had help –"

But as he turned, he found that Jupiter was gone.

* * *

The violet-haired woman gritted her teeth in pain and surprise as her back slammed against the metal door and she fell backwards through it. She threw out her hands behind her to catch herself, but merely jammed a finger and landed squarely on her back, gripped the hand to her stomach and rolling to jump back to her feet. Her gritted teeth, narrowed eyes and defensive expression dropped with almost inhuman speed at the sight of her attacker.

"Mars?" She muttered, looking as confused as a small child might. The woman before her stood shorter, hair wild and red, a pistol trained with both hands in her direction. Anyone to see ex-administrator Jupiter wearing such a look might have wondered if she had seen a ghost, because surely Jupiter had never looked so nervous in her career. Perhaps one moment to rival it may have been when Leader Cyrus himself had trained a gun level with her head, intent on putting a bullet between her eyes. But he hadn't gotten to.

_Mars just might fix that for him._

"I got the page that you were spotted in the west wing," the other woman spoke evenly and calmly. This scared Jupiter even more, though she tried not to express it any further. Yet when Mars reached behind and closed the door to the maintenance closet she had found herself shoved in, her heartbeat quickened. "I knew you'd never be so stupid as to be seen."

"So you looked in the opposite place," Jupiter took a breath to steady her voice.

"Yes," Mars didn't sound triumphant or cocky, as she so often did when she accomplished something big for Cyrus. Here she had Jupiter, Cyrus' biggest problem, his only traitor, and she wasn't even gloating. Jupiter's pulse raced.

"I heard Cyrus assigned you to kill me," Jupiter tried to continue dragging out the conversation, if it could be called that. She knew that words were her only hope here, as they often had been in her lifetime. She had made a career and a life out of crafting clever sentences, phrases that tortured and titillated. But this was a test above all others, as Administrator Mars knew her techniques and was a woman who shot first and asked questions if she felt like it at the funeral.

"He did," she replied, and Jupiter did not like the short answers she was getting. Mars looked so pale, so calm. Jupiter had the thought that she was fighting a losing battle.

_I had a debt to repay. I just needed to reach Oak. The first good deed I've attempted in years, and – and this is what I get?_

"Are you going to shoot me, Mars?" Jupiter suddenly felt tired, very tired. She was so very tired of running and lying and fighting. She had no gun, and she was so very tired of talking. The frantic thoughts of using her wit to escape Mars seemed silly. Why shouldn't she let Mars kill her? Wouldn't it all be easier that way?

Silence came as the response, but Mars did not lower her gun. But Jupiter had been trained for years to read the faces and words of her adversaries, and her former co-workers were no exceptions. Mars' face faltered – her calm resolve flinched and a bead of sweat dripped down her temple. The slight shaking of the gun in her hands became clearer. Jupiter felt life returning to her veins.

"No," Mars whispered, almost so quietly that neither of them heard. But over her own pounding heart the words did reach Jupiter's ears, and in that moment she lunged forward. A shot fired off, and the two women slammed backwards into the wall, where one rose up and hit the other swiftly over the side of the head with a blunt pipe snagged from the shelf beside where they wrestled. The second stopped moving abruptly, sagging limply over the other's lap. The conscious woman's shoulders shuddered once, twice, and then not again, and she sniffed a single time.

* * *

"What do we do?"

"Did you really have to sound the alarm?"

"Do you think I would have if I had a choice? What kind of question is that!"

"She was supposed to be back with you, Clyde."

"We couldn't wait for her anymore! I have no idea where she went, I had to get my dad out of there."

"Who cares where she is!" Gary burst, lowering his voice only after the others harshly shushed him. "Jupiter's a criminal like the rest of them, whose bright idea was it to work with her in the first place?"

He noticed Ash Ketchum's defensive glance, which met his eyes only for a second. He felt a twinge of regret, but it vanished when he glanced down and saw the raw skin where his chains had rubbed away at his wrists. Beside him, Misty Waterflower huddled in the boat as well, and for the first time in a while she shared a sympathetic glance with him.

"I agree with you," she whispered lowly, but it was by no means in a friendly tone. Gary looked around the group, all positioned in the boat as it floated lazily on the water, and wasn't sure he saw a single person without a reason to be angry with him except perhaps the Harrisons. He made a mental note to take full advantage of that via Brock once they were back and safe, wherever the hell they were going, as somebody was definitely going to have to explain to him what the hell was going on and what on earth they were waiting for Jupiter for.

"There she is," Ash pointed suddenly, getting to his feet in surprise. Gary found himself staring at the other man's back instead of the direction he stared off into, wondering what else he could possibly do to screw them up.

_Do I even bother trying to talk to him?_ He debated mentally._ Fuck, this isn't really the time or the place to be worrying about that, is it?_

But what was he supposed to be worrying about? He didn't know. He didn't know the plan, or what was happening around him. This was Ash Ketchum's escape to orchestrate, and unlike last time he was going to sit back and be a willing participant. He never wanted to see those nooses hanging in the dungeon again.

"Where have you been?" A purple-haired teenager burst when the woman charged up to the boat, panting furiously. It was a shock to him to see Jupiter wearing anything but a Galactic uniform, and for a moment he wondered if he might be dreaming. "We –"

"Thank me later," she snapped impatiently. He noticed a few bruises beginning to form on her lower neck. "And shut your mouth now."

"Gramps?" Gary burst suddenly, standing in the slowly wafting boat. Into the craft came his grandfather on shaky feet, and he shoved everyone else aside to get to him and steady him regardless of the bad terms he might be on with the rest of the group. He couldn't give a damn less about any of them, so long as he got to his grandfather. "Are you alright? Do you have any idea what's going on?"

"How about," the professor took a long breath, clearly worn out, "how about we discuss it after a quick sit, my boy."

The rest of the boat no longer existed to Gary Oak as he led his grandfather to the other side and sat beside him, one arm wrapped around his shoulders. The old man coughed and wheezed as Gary waited patiently and sympathetically, wearing a look of genuine care that he very seldom gave anybody else. When a thump hit the deck he assumed it was some idiot tripping in the boat as they raised the anchor to complete the escape, but when the rest of the group gasped in almost complete unison he furrowed his brow and turned briefly to look.

Lying limply on the deck was the unconscious body of Administrator Mars, who was bleeding lightly from the left side of her head. Gary could only spare a moment for the shocking sight when he realized that Jupiter was standing on the edge of the boat, suddenly a pistol in hand. It was not pointed in anyone's direction, but the tension suddenly apparent on the craft made it quite clear that nobody aboard trusted her with it.

"I'm completely unharmed," she began in a bitterly sarcastic tone, still panting as if she had run a marathon, "thank you all for asking. Now let's get going."

For a moment no one moved, eyes locked on the gun in the woman's hand.

"Was I not clear?" She snarled venomously, in a voice that sent a few men raking up the anchor faster and one that Gary did not know flying to the control panel. "I want to get moving, people!"

And with a crack that sent a few of them jumping, a few flinching and some merely praying, ex-administrator Jupiter fired her newly obtained gun into the air.


	32. Out of Character

No excuse this time. Shh...read and enjoy. I'm getting caught up over here, I've got 10+ sticky notes of notes that I scrawl frantically when I should be focusing at work.

**Disclaimer: I don't own Pokemon.**

* * *

The boat trip commenced in almost total silence. Gary Oak didn't want to say that he had told anybody so…but hadn't he been the one to question why they were working with a woman like Jupiter? Now the Galactic – or former Galactic? – team member was standing aboard the edge of their boat, hand gripping her pistol carefully and keeping a trained stare out into the water. Lying on the deck, Administrator Mars was still unconscious, but every now and then she would twitch, and the entire group would seem to stop breathing to watch her. Gary wondered, but did not ask, what would happen if she woke. Jupiter had the gun, but he really wasn't sure whose side she was on.

The lack of distracting conversation was giving Gary a lot of time to stare at Ash Ketchum. The other man was seated across the deck and to the right slightly, meaning Gary could rest his head in his palm, elbows propped on his knees and still try and catch the eye of the other trainer. However Ash's attention could not be gotten until something else occurred to Gary, something that he had meant to ask before Jupiter had escalated their situation by dumping Mars into the boat.

"You have my umbreon, right, Ash?"

Everyone glanced individually at Gary who was daring to break the silence. Jupiter didn't say anything to object, and had she he might have flown off the handle. This was not nap time in a daycare – he was in no way going to escape Galactic control only to take orders from Jupiter, and if he wanted to speak, he would. For some reason the question didn't come out frantically, though he had imagined that if he ever managed to escape the hellhole that Galactic had kept him in that he would be absolutely panicking over his starter. But Pikachu was seated comfortably in Ash's lap, and if he had managed to escape with his own pokemon Gary imagined that he had not left Umbreon behind.

_Besides, if he left her behind I can already see myself strangling him five different ways -_

"Yeah," the answer finally came, simple and curt. Ash didn't even look his way. There was an awkward silence that followed, with Brock and a few others looking somewhat confused at the air of unfriendliness, but Misty drew her arms closer around herself and raised her eyebrows like she had seen it coming and wasn't all that disappointed by it.

As land approached, the chill in the air began to let up slightly. The sun was rising over the water and he was looking forward to even the most meager shelter that wherever they were headed had to offer. They docked the boat and Jupiter let them disembark calmly and without incident, and when Gary noted that she tied Mars' limp hands behind her back with bungee cord from below deck before hoisting her over her shoulder, he felt a bit better. Even if he didn't trust Jupiter, he certainly liked to see that she was not siding with Mars.

Ash made his way to the front of the group, leading the pack towards their destination. Boldly, Gary headed up there himself, coming along to flank beside Ash and ignoring the unfriendly dismissal he had received earlier.

"Alright," he began in a business tone, "what's the story here? You have a lot to fill me in on."

There came no reply. Ash glanced briefly in his direction with a look that cried out with lack of amusement, but then looked back straight ahead and picked up his pace to leave Gary behind. Completely unsure of how to deal with the response, he stopped briefly and let others pass him.

"Everything alright, my boy?"

His grandfather had stopped to wait for him. The rest of the group continued into the trees, everyone else seemingly too hungry or tired to want to stop even for a brief moment to check on him. Gary let out a held in breath and ran a hand through his hair.

"Everything's peachy, Gramps," he reassured, though he was certain the old man wouldn't believe him. Nonetheless they pressed on until they came across a series of what looked to be log cabins, maybe a dozen or so, in a clearing of trees with a few people moseying about lazily. When the group was spotted, several began to call out, and one in particular dropped what she was doing and ran over.

"May?" He heard Ash's voice from the front ask just before the woman dove into his chest for a hug. Gary was shocked to see her, having been completely in the dark about what she might have gotten involved in after he and Misty's abduction in Petalburg City. To some delight of his, he began to recognize citizens of Petalburg pecking about and approaching the group to see them.

"I told you I was coming to help," May pulled away from Ash finally. "I brought a few volunteers who wanted to come along. They're all pretty proficient trainers – I tested their skills personally before I'd let them come with me."

"Are they all aware of the danger they're in, May?" Ash sounded worried. "I don't want anybody here who doesn't know what could happen."

"They all saw what happened to Misty and Gary," she shrugged, as if that explained enough. "They've seen what Galactic can do. Speaking of – where are those two?"

"Here, May," Gary called nonchalantly from the back, smirking as she caught eyes with him. The brunette hopped over and crushed him in a similar hug before pulling back.

"No offense," she began, "but you look terrible."

"Thanks," Gary rolled his eyes but didn't take it personally. "I didn't exactly spend the last few weeks at a holiday resort."

May giggled. "I'm glad to see your safe – or, something like that. You need to eat! Where's Misty? I can show you the sort of dining hall we're getting set up here. I'm sure Brock could whip something up, couldn't you, Brock?"

To Gary's surprise, as well as everyone else's, Brock only glanced over at them in reply. He was hovering beside Salvador about a dozen feet away, back turned to them. His reply sounded unusually unfriendly.

"Actually, there's something I wanted to talk to Ash about first."

But before Brock could get to whatever it was he wished to talk about, a look of recognition passed between May and Salvador that surprised him. Gary hadn't assumed the two would know one another, but when May exclaimed the man's name in delighted surprise, it was Brock who whipped around instead of his younger brother.

"You know Salvador?" Brock snapped uncharacteristically. "Can I ask how, May?"

May quieted down instantly, a response that Gary did not blame her for. The majority of the group had wandered away – his old prison mate Jessie and her apparent family, Misty, and even his grandfather. Who remained was he and May, with Ash standing a couple feet in front of them and Brock and his brothers off to the side.

"We – I mean –" But May did not seem to be able to come up with a suitable response, and so it was Salvador that spoke up.

"You're being rude, Brock," the man said calmly, to which Brock backed down only slightly.

"Ash," the Pewter City Gym leader carried on with a new target, "you'd been in there before, hadn't you? When you tried to save them the first time."

Suddenly Gary could see where this was going. It occurred to him all at once like an enormous red flag had been waved in front of his face, but Ash still seemed to be missing it.

"Yeah," he began slowly, cautiously. "But I couldn't –"

"So you knew," Brock said flatly. "You knew Salvador was taken prisoner there and you didn't tell me even though you saw him."

The silence was heavy and Ash paused, mouth open, looking as if he fully intended to give a response. But then the moment passed and it was Forrest who filled the blank.

"You're being an ass," he put much less eloquently than his younger brother. "Will you cut it out? Everyone's all back together and you're ruining it."

"No, I'm not going to 'cut it out', Forrest," Brock ignored him angrily. "You asked me to trust you, Ash, and I did. I told you that of course I did. Our families - we're supposed to be looking out for one another. But you knew he was in there, and you didn't tell me?"

"Brock, I swear I didn't realize," Ash held out his hands as if he could fend off the argument physically. "Everyone was afraid, and I was in a hurry, and – and –"

"He didn't even look in that direction," Gary contributed, which seemed to catch Ash off guard by the look on his face. "I would know, Brock. I was there."

"Why?" The older man asked genuinely for a minute, and then carried on as irritably as before. "Why was that? Because he was too busy dealing with you, Gary?"

He hadn't prepared for that. He suddenly regretted having spoken up at all, because with the seamless skills that Gary had thought only parents and grandparents possessed, Brock seemed to have the ability to turn the blame onto whoever dared speak up next. He did so in a way that made sense no matter how far of a reach it was, or at least in a tone that made everyone think twice before questioning him on it.

"And May," he held out a palm before he brought it to his face and rested a few fingers on his temple. "I don't even want an explanation from you. I don't even want to know what you should have told me."

With that Brock stalked off into the slew of log cabins. Forrest scowled and hurried after him, looking frustrated, while the remaining brother glanced between all of them and offered an apology before following after. May swallowed thickly and wandered off in a different direction, one that would hopefully lead to fewer encounters with Brock Harrison. Remaining was he and Ash, Pikachu with ears flattened and up against his shoe. Gary inhaled ever so quietly to prepare for his next statement, but before he could utter a word the other trainer spit angrily into the grass and walked away.

* * *

Ash retreated into the log cabin that had housed him previously and slid onto a bed, and Pikachu, never one for much comforting, side-eyed him from the desk nearby. Ash could tell that the small pokemon was in fact worried, but he had a funny way of showing it. If Ash agonized in there alone for too long, he might receive a light shock or two beckoning him to get off his ass and rejoin the world.

_I've never even met Salvador before. How was I supposed to know to be looking for him? I wasn't even paying –_

That was the problem though, the one that Brock had so obviously accused him of. He hadn't been paying attention to who else might need his help when he had tried to break out Gary and Misty, because he had been there for the two of them, and more importantly for Gary. He had been too busy dealing with Gary to notice that Salvador was there as well, and given the similarities of their faces had he bothered to spare the other man a few glances, he would have certainly considered the possibility that he could be a Harrison.

He had asked Brock to trust him. They had bonded over the agreement that they would look out for one another's families, be them pokemon or human. Ash had already disappointed Brock, for a second major time in his life.

The door creaked open slowly. For a split second his mind hoped it would be Gary, coming to apologize, to find him and ask him to forgive him for being such an insufferable ass – but it wasn't. Of course it wasn't. Why would he have thought that even for a moment? Instead it was the man's grandfather, looking grim and sympathetic. This brought a second torrent of guilt sweeping through him. He had only fuzzy memories of the professor in Galactic's hold and had had no idea of where he might be held, and so he had not included the man in the rescue mission. It had seemed to risky and he had been nervous as it was. Yet Jupiter had gone forth and retrieved him anyway…he meant to ask her about that later. Looking into the face of the old man he swore that he would never allow one of his people to be left behind.

"Professor," he greeted, trying to plaster on a friendly face. The old man seemed to see right through it.

"I'm not sure what's happened between you and my grandson," Oak sounded nothing but kind, "but he cares about you very much."

"So he fooled you too?" The question was out before he could catch it, but the professor didn't seem offended. Instead he looked disappointed – not in Ash, not in himself, but for some reason no doubt.

"There's some information I'd like to share with you and your friends," the old man continued past the previous subject, "if you'd like me to gather them in here?"

"That's fine," he agreed with a sigh, ushering Pikachu to come and sit beside him.

"And Gary as well," the professor added, looking for his approval to inform his own grandson of whatever meeting was about to be held. Ash nodded even though he really was in no mood to spend more time with Gary, and the professor disappeared. When he returned, he had brought Misty, Brock and Gary with him, with Gary's umbreon trailing dutifully at his heels, getting caught up between his legs and almost tripping him at one point. The dark-type did not seem able to keep to herself and as her trainer sat on the bed across from Ash's, she leaped up and stretched out across his lap, purring rather loudly.

"Someone's happy to see you," Brock chuckled a little, looking like he had cooled off a bit and took a seat beside Gary, leaving Misty to sit next to Ash. For this Ash was actually grateful – whereas a few weeks ago it would have terrified him to sit next to his ex-fiancé, he actually preferred at this moment to be seated beside her than beside Gary or the man who thought he was too distracted to look out for his brothers.

"Yeah," Gary chuckled too, and Ash kept himself occupied with petting Pikachu to try and ignore the sound. Meanwhile, Gary was trying to subdue Umbreon, who was now nuzzling the man's chin. "She's a real sweetheart. So what's up, Gramps? What's the deal?"

The professor cleared his throat. Ash told himself that Gary's carefree attitude, like nothing at this moment was bothering him, didn't upset him.

"Team Galactic's leader has been employing me for the completion of a few tasks," the man began, looking grim. The room quieted and all four younger adults honed in on the seriousness of the situation. "I originally wanted to announce this to the entire group, but I thought better of it. It's best that we keep this between as few people as possible, as to avoid any panic."

_Panic. That sets the tone for a bad conversation if anything ever has._

"Cyrus is attempting to gather each of the lake trio legendaries in order to extract their…gems, if you will. Each possesses a section of the Red Chain, an ancient piece of great importance in the old legends."

"But they're just that," Gary spoke up abruptly. "Legends. Sinnoh bedtime stories, like the legendary birds of Kanto."

"All legends were born somewhere, somehow, Gary," Oak continued on. "As much as they might have been expanded and fabricated, there are elements of truth to each one, or they would never have come into existence. However, I can assure you that the gems these legendaries carry are very real, as I have assisted in the extraction of several."

There was a moment of silence. Brock broke it first.

"How many, exactly?"

"Cyrus is currently one chain away from his goal," Oak carried on slowly. "He's begun burning the bridges of his alliances. He knows that he is close."

"What happens when he has them all?" Misty asked cautiously. "What exactly is the point of completing the Red Chain?"

At this point Oak seemed hesitant to continue. Ash noticed Gary narrow his eyes from across the room, but he quickly looked away again and back to the professor.

"Hopefully, we will not have to find that out," he left it at that. Ash found he was very unsatisfied with that as an answer, but he did not press the older man just yet.

"So how much time do you think we have?" Gary piped up again over Umbreon's purring. "Before he completes it."

"Not long, if Charon can remove the gems himself," Oak admitted. "But in the past only I have removed the gems. It is a delicate process that takes patience, and hope that the legendary will not awaken and obliterate you. Two things I don't believe Charon possesses much of."

"And if he can't remove them himself?"

"Then our problems will solve themselves," the professor sighed, "because the legendary will destroy them for us. But I must admit I see only a slim chance of that occurring."

"But you just said that you don't think Charon can do it," Ash spoke up for the first time since Gary had joined them. The professor looked at him solemnly.

"You're right, Ash," he explained, "I do not have much faith in him. But problems of this magnitude very rarely solve themselves."

Ash glanced at Gary as that sentence sunk into his brain, and accidentally he caught the man's eye. He looked away with a touch of panic, unsure why the stark blue was striking nerves into his chest instead of anger.

"Ain't that the truth," Gary added unnecessarily, and Ash pointedly ignored him.

* * *

Dark had fallen over Iron Island, but Gary Oak could not bring himself to sleep. Not while questions bounced about in his skull. He was leaned up against a cabin with Umbreon seated patiently at his side, eyes glowing red in the low light. He rubbed his freshly shaven face with exhaustion, but he just couldn't find it in him to sleep yet.

When a door nearby creaked open and shut, he peered around the log frame to find Ash Ketchum stepping out and making his way towards the woods, his electric-type hopping along beside him. Curiosity peaked, Gary made a quiet path to follow him. For a few dozen yards, this worked rather well. But then Gary began to feel like this was just a tad too weird for him – he and Ash went way back, so didn't that count for something? He shouldn't have to slink around in the night following him around. It was creepy. It was unhealthy. So he took a few long strides to bridge the gap between them and threw out his hand to catch Ash's shoulder.

"What - ! Gary?"

The other man spun around in surprise, and his starter sparked a warning at his feet before recognizing Gary. Ash looked surprised at first, but then his expression quickly turned unfriendly. He was waiting for Gary to say something, and so he spat out the first thing that came to mind.

"What the hell is Jupiter doing here acting like she's one of us?" He asked, and Ash blinked a few times like he had expected something else.

"She sort of helped me escape," he explained slowly, the most complete sentence Gary had gotten from him since his return. "You know, that time that you sent me away for trying to save you."

Okay. So the conversation was going to head in that direction. Gary was sure that he could handle it.

_I can, right?_

He might have been about to capitalize on the opportunity before him to talk about what had happened. But suddenly he rerouted the conversation, channeling his anger at seeing Jupiter in their camp to distract from what Ash so obviously wanted to focus on.

"She's not safe," he carried on, "and having her live here with us is absolutely insane."

"What's insane is that she brought Mars to us," Ash had his dark eyes to the grass, then the trees, anywhere but at him. "She also rescued your grandfather, remember?"

"I don't know why you're under the impression that she can be trusted," he rolled his eyes, but Ash's reply caught him off guard with the venom it packed and the way the other trainer suddenly worked up the nerve to stare him cold in the eyes.

"I don't know why you're under the impression that we're talking," he turned on his heels and continued off towards the woods. The electric-type starter held his ground for a moment longer and let out an indignant squeak like he knew enough to consider this conversation a great injustice against his trainer. Umbreon let out a worried note and Gary balked visibly, watching the man get farther and farther away from him. He wanted to rip the hat from his head until he paid attention to him. He wanted to get a hold of that little bratty starter of his until he had to listen to him. Finally he called something out.

"Ash," he began, but when there was no response he continued. "I want us to talk."

But he was already out of earshot, and Gary had delayed too long that night.

* * *

Under the moon, two of the group gathered around a fire. The elderly man sipped on a cup of poorly made tea with a smile on his face, whilst the woman stoked the fire while watching him with narrowed eyes.

"What did you bring me out here for, Oak?"

The professor was very happy with the rations that the Petalburg volunteers had brought, tea included. But he hadn't brought Jupiter out into the chilly night to discuss fine food and drink.

"I just hoped to talk."

"You know I still have Mars' gun," the violet-haired woman smirked devilishly, but he didn't feel threatened. In fact, he laughed. "Your grandson hasn't figured out a way to take it from me yet."

"So you've noticed that he's rather uncomfortable with you holding onto it," Oak chuckled like the two were children fighting over a toy.

"I'd say he's more than uncomfortable," she corrected. "The man can't stand me, it's written all over his face. He's rather ungrateful towards someone who took it upon herself to free his grandfather."

"Now, that is exactly why I asked you to accompany me out here," he smiled. "But first, how is Mars?"

"She's awake," Jupiter's smirk slipped. "I have her locked in the closet of one of the cabins. I've chained the door shut as well, so it's rather obvious which one."

"Very considerate of you," he applauded silently. "A warning to keep others from wandering into her hold."

"I didn't do it to keep blundering fools out," she corrected curtly, "I did it to keep her_ in_. Better men and women than me have tried to contain her and they had better supplies than bungee cord and old chain."

"Yes, I imagine," Oak blinked and took a sip of his tea, the steam rising into the cool air. "Her file suggested so."

Jupiter, who had been mid-stoke of the fire, balked visibly and seized up so suddenly that her wrist flicked and sent embers flying upwards.

"Her file," she stated flatly, staring at him awaiting an answer. He merely nodded calmly, which prompted her to continue. "What would you know about Mars' file?"

"I was left alone in Cyrus' record room," he continued calmly as if it were nothing. "But first, why I really called you out here. Why did you choose to rescue me?"

"No, not_ 'but first',_" she demanded with growing irritation. Oak was not fazed by it. "First you're going to tell me what the hell you know. You were left alone in the record room? By which imbecile?"

"Charon," he chuckled a bit. "To the man's credit, he did handcuff me to a table first."

"Then how the hell did you get your hands on Mars' file?"

He smiled and tapped his head with one forefinger. To him, the matter was amusing, but Jupiter did not seem to agree.

"What did you read?" She leaned forward, speaking in harsh whispers. "What the hell do you know?"

"If it's any consolation," he went on, "I did not read your file, Jupiter."

At this, the ex-Galactic blinked and sat back. The fire crackled and smoke billowed into the night sky.

"Why not?"

The professor smiled, a warm gesture that reached up to his eyes.

"I was hoping that one day you might tell me how you ended up here on your own accord."

Jupiter stared blankly, and the professor suspected that internally she might be wrestling between many different responses. What she settled on did not surprise him.

"You aren't going to tell anyone what you've read," she growled lowly in the dark, the fire casting an orange glow over her skin. "Not about Mars."

"And Charon and Saturn?" He inquired. Then she did surprise him.

"I don't care what you say about them," she dismissed.

"And why is that?"

"I don't particularly know Saturn," she shrugged. "He always struck me as a bit of a pansy. Charon irks me."

"You tied Mars up and locked her in a closet," Oak proposed. "You don't seem particularly fond of her either."

Jupiter watched him quietly before she sighed irritably and tossed the stick she had been stoking the fire with fully into the flames.

"Mars and I have a history of competition between our careers," she crossed her arms and leaned back. "It's nothing. I just can't have any old thing finishing her off. It'd be a pathetic way to end a rivalry."

"And you're afraid my knowledge, should it get out, might finish her off?"

"There are things in her past that could be used against her," she attempted a shrug, but Oak could see that her heart wasn't in it. He couldn't keep the smile from his face. "I could use them against her myself – it is my specialty, after all – but that would be too easy."

"My grandson has a rival," Oak kept the wide grin plastered to his face. Jupiter stood with a scowl.

"If you're keeping up with that stupid idea that I remind you of that man, drop it," she turned and headed into the dark. "You're delusional. Your grandson and Ketchum are a lot more than rivals, old man."

"If you're not protecting Mars because you consider her your friend," he put a hand to his chin and ignored her, "then you're doing it out of the kindness of your heart. Which is it, Jupiter? Is she your friend, or are you a kind person?"

Jupiter halted with her back to him.

"I am not protecting her."

"Then why haven't you let anyone interrogate her yet?" He proposed, looking sly. "And why do you still have her gun?"

"Because your grandson would put a bullet through me with it if I let anyone else make off with it."

"No, he wouldn't," Oak reasoned. "You know as well as I do that Gary is no more likely to fire that thing at you than I am without provocation. But Mars is dangerous, volatile. She may very well pose a threat to the rest of us. And he might just find it in him to shoot if she escaped and came at one of us, which I'm sure you agree that she would do should she find a way to escape."

Jupiter spit into the grass.

"So which is it, Jupiter?" He chuckled a bit. "Is she your friend, or are you a good person?"

She kicked the grass and returned to her cabin without a word of answer. Oak politely waited until she was out of earshot before he laughed heartily and finished his tea.


	33. Newcomers

Shhh okay I'm two weeks late but...yeah just shhh it'll be okay.

**Disclaimer: I don't own Pokemon or I'd probably be legally bound to update on time.**

* * *

Ash knew that now that they were all safely together, the group needed to take another step. The prison break had gone as well as one could hope, and now there were new things to consider. Professor Oak's information on the deeper intentions Team Galactic's leader had alarmed him, and he wanted to know more. He knew that regardless of how the stories of Sinnoh went, which he wasn't all that familiar with, the consequences of completing the Red Chain couldn't be good for them.

But first, he had matters of trust to deal with. There were people among them that he wasn't entirely ready to place his confidence in. Strangely, Jupiter was not one of them. She had once had the chance to abandon them during the break-in, and had chances to do away with him while they had been alone together. Yet she had taken neither, and had even risked her own safety to retrieve Professor Oak. No, it was not Jupiter that worried him. In fact, he would need her.

"Jupiter," he spotted her outside, kindling a fire on her own while others bustled nearby. She did not associate with very many of them that Ash had noticed, and whenever she was not being addressed she said nothing.

_I suppose I can't blame her,_ he sympathized,_ not everyone is jumping up and down to see her with us, after all._

"Ketchum," she raised an eyebrow, straightening up and offering nothing more than that. He carried on.

"How's Mars?" He lowered his voice a little and made sure he closed any unnecessary distance between them. Only Jupiter had been to see the Galactic admin since her capture, to deliver her food and water and most importantly to make sure she wasn't working her way out of her restraints. The violet-haired woman's expression offered nothing more of an explanation than her words did.

"Furious," her voice sounded flat, and Ash was not surprised to hear that.

"I want to see her."

Jupiter paused. Her eyes narrowed slightly like she did not entirely find this to be an intelligent idea.

"Why would you?" She raised an eyebrow.

"I want to talk to her," he shrugged, trying to remain casual. For someone that had taken the Galactic prisoner, Juptier had thus far been incredibly protective of her. He got the feeling that if he made it obvious that he wanted to interrogate Mars for information, he might not be allowed near her. "I want to make sure that everyone with us we can trust."

"You can't trust her," she snorted, returning to poking around the fire with a stick. "Save your breath."

"Just come with me," he ignored her. "I want to talk to her and I don't want to go alone."

"No," she chuckled. "That's right. You don't."

Without further protest the former Galactic followed close by him to the cabin where Mars was held. When they reached the door, she fiddled with the chains and swung it open carefully and quietly. However the essence of caution was lost when a voice called out from behind them.

"Hey!" It was unmistakably Gary Oak, and Ash refrained from sighing heavily. "What're you doing?"

"Isn't that where Mars is being held?" He wasn't alone. Ash turned to find that the man was accompanied by Misty, who was looking at them skeptically. Gary however, looked more annoyed than skeptical.

"You're not going in there, are you?" He scowled.

"She's tied up," Ash explained, keeping the reply short. He didn't want to have another argument with Gary about the Galactic's in their midst. He really didn't want to be talking to Gary at all. Every time he caught sight of the brunette he could hear those words all over again.

_"You're pretty gullible, aren't you, Ashy-boy?"_

"And if she's managed to get a hand loose she'll snap your neck with it," Gary crossed his arms in his brown jacket. Neither of the two looked happy about the choice, but the redhead seemed less anxious to get involved.

"If you're going in there, good luck," she rolled her eyes and sighed. "But I'm not sticking around for it."

"Neither of you are," Jupiter added plainly. "Only Ketchum and I are going in to see Mars."

"Oh, yeah?" Ash could detect the challenge in Gary's tone as each syllable left his lips. It spelled nothing but trouble as the violet-haired woman seemed to sense it too and turned around to face him fully. "Who says you're not conspiring with her? Not planning to get Ash in there alone and help Mars finish him off?"

Pikachu sparked at his feet. Ash nudged the small pokemon with his shoe to dismiss him.

"That's ridiculous." Jupiter retorted flatly.

"He could have a point," Misty looked skeptical still, now watching Jupiter for some kind of reaction. The woman scowled.

"If I were to finish off Ketchum," she flashed a tiny smirk before she turned to vanish into the cabin, "I wouldn't need_ help."_

Ash's eyes lingered on the pair a bit longer before he went after Jupiter. The pair of footsteps behind him as he approached the closet did not surprise him but did annoy him further. With a sigh that sagged his shoulders he spun around.

"What the hell are you doing?" He whispered forcefully as he came face to face with Gary Oak. He had been following him so closely that their noses almost touched as he whipped around, something that Ash tried to brush off as he spoke. They were so close he could see the different shades of blue in his familiar eyes, so close that it would be so simple to lean just a bit forward and –

_And nothing. It's not like that. We aren't like that. Right?_

"I'm coming to see Mars," he explained simply, looking far too casual for the lack of distance between them. "If you're not speaking to me, don't expect me to listen to you and your buddy over there about what I should and shouldn't do."

He motioned spitefully towards Juptier, who was fiddling with the chains on the closet door. Ash truly didn't see how he could convince Gary to leave without causing more trouble than was worth, and so instead he turned his attention back to the closet as the door swung open and the woman inside was revealed.

The redheaded woman had a gag to keep her quiet and rope around her wrists and ankles. She was breathing heavily, nostrils flaring and eyes alight with burning fire when she spotted the group before her. The scene struck Ash in a way he didn't like – tying and gagging Mars and keeping her their prisoner, were they not just as bad as the organization they meant to stop? Jupiter reached forward very carefully, to which Mars flinched violently but could not dodge far enough to keep the violet-haired woman from tearing away her gag.

"You bitch!" Mars' first words came out spitefully. "How dare you!"

"If I recall correctly," Jupiter replied calmly, her face betraying neither pleasure nor displeasure at the scene before her, "you are the one who attacked me, Mars."

"I want to ask you a few questions," Ash attempted to begin, but he took a step back when the woman spat at him.

"Don't waste your vile breath!" She shouted. "You won't get a damn thing out of me. You think I can't handle this? You don't know better, Jupiter?"

"Now that you've been in my company," Jupiter went on in Ash's place like the prisoner wasn't ranting away, "Cyrus isn't going to take you back, you know. He'll have you killed like he tried to have with me. He won't trust you anymore – not that he ever did."

"Cyrus does trust me," she snarled back. "And when I'm out of here I'm going to take great pleasure in taking your job and all of your lowly little grunts."

"You're not cut out for my job, Mars," Jupiter ignored her. She glanced sideways at Ash. "We're wasting our time. She won't talk when she's worked up like this."

"When isn't she worked up?" Gary's voice chimed in from behind them, and he weaseled his way in between Jupiter and Ash and into the view of the prisoner, who let out an outraged cry. The former Champion flashed her a winning smile, the likes of which Ash was very familiar with from their history together. It was the kind of grin that the other man would mock him with after decimating his team in battle, the kind that made a person wonder if they were worth anything at all.

"How's it feel being on the other end of things?" He laughed. "What a great change of pace."

"Out, Oak," Jupiter hissed, but Gary folded his arms and shrugged.

"I don't think so," he dismissed. "What's next, then? Do I get to hang a little noose above your head? Should I grab a scalpel and carve_ 'Property of Gary Oak'_ into your back?"

"Gary," Ash said more firmly than Jupiter had, and for a moment the man faltered. The slight pause seemed to be enough for him to decide that his mockery could wait.

"Maybe I'll come back and visit you later," the Viridian Gym leader mused, "but probably not. Have fun, _sweetheart."_

Gary hesitated before he left – so subtly that Ash didn't notice it, but it was there. His eyes glanced over the other trainer who made no move to follow, and with that he left. Ash and Jupiter continued to prod Mars, but on that day they got nowhere.

* * *

At nearly the same time, two leaders touched down in Goldenrod City. One, a powerful Champion shattered by loss, and the other gripping to the tattered edges of his authority, newly shocked by the realization that he had lost most of it. The two made a beeline for the same place, Champion Lance of Kanto reaching Leader Whitney's gym only a short while before the next would. He did not bother to rap his fist on the door, but instead marched inside as if it were his own gym. He did not have long here. Champions weren't to be found in foreign lands without the permission of that nation's Champion – it was disrespectful. He had found himself to be a special case in some circumstances, as he hailed from Johto, but normally he had requested permission from the Champion regardless as a formality.

_"Your services will not be needed any longer, Lance."_

_"What – what are you saying to me, Leader Cyrus? And that is_ Champion_ Lance –"_

_"Have you not noticed that you lost that title long ago?"_

Perhaps it wouldn't be. Perhaps he was hardly Champion enough anymore for his presence to cause uproar in Johto.

"Champion Lance?" The man behind the desk stammered as he strode in, cape waving out behind him. To his frustration, the gym was eerily empty. If he could guess what lie beyond the doors of the lobby, he would guess nothing and no one. It seemed as if the secretary was the only person left, for whatever reason. "Wh-what brings you to Johto?"

Despite his tattered pride after his dismissal by Cyrus, it brought him some condolence to see the man before him stammering. At least he commanded respect somewhere.

"Leader Whitney does," he did not bother to look amused. "But I see that she is not here. Perhaps I will try her home –"

"Leader Whitney isn't in Goldenrod City at the moment, sir," he interrupted shakily, and Lance found himself more offended than he usually might have been at the indiscretion. But it was not the nation he ruled over and he knew there was nothing to be done about it – unless he didn't have a nation any longer.

_"This is my nation! I rule over it just as I have for years!"_

_"You haven't ruled since you allowed myself and my team such complete power, Lance. Some might find that to be a mistake on your part – I find it a rather wise decision."_

_"You – you dart back and forth between Sinnoh and Kanto, you rule neither –"_

_"That is where you are wrong, Lance. I rule both."_

"And where exactly has she gone?"

"Hoenn, sir."

"What could she possibly be in search of in Hoenn?"

Before his question could be answered, the door had opened and the sound of heels against the tile reached his ears.

"Similarly," a voice of cool authority interjected the conversation from behind him, "I am wondering that as well."

He found Champion Karen stepping into the room behind him. Her mouth formed a slight smirk as she paused and crossed her arms, her young umbreon slinking in between her calves. However, her eyes were hard and rimmed with red, contradicting her casually commanding look.

"Where is my Goldenrod City leader, exactly?" She posed the question again, sounding less curious and more demanding.

"Champion Karen," the man behind the counter gave a quick yet deep bow. Lance felt a stab of anger and jealousy. "She is in Petalburg City, on business. I do not know what kind."

Petalburg. Lance gritted his teeth, remembering the last time he had visited that place. He had had to run amok the world searching for what Galactic was up to with his own people, with his own former successor Gary Oak. He should have realized then that he had lost his power. The arrogant Oak had even tried to tell him himself – but even still, Lance found it hard to believe.

_"I'm firing you, essentially, Lance."_

_"You can't fire me. I am the Champion. If anything, I have the power to fire you, you arrogant –"_

_"Please, do put that pokeball away. You are not an entirely intolerable man, Lance. I do not wish to confiscate your pokemon, though I shall if I must. A dragon-type would make for an impressive skeleton in my office."_

He tried to shake away the memories of the indignities committed against him that too recent day and focused on the problems at hand. Such as the Champion standing before him, who had not granted him permission to be there in the first place.

"Another question," Karen began, "what exactly are you doing here in my nation, Lance? Does this look like Blackthorn City to you?"

"Before you –"

"No," she took a few more steps forward, raising one finger to point in his face in a way that irritated him. He calmed it and reminded himself that he was trespassing. "I want no excuses from you. What are you doing on my land? Has that goddamn fool Cyrus that you work with sent you? Consider your answer carefully, Lance."

She had a firm grip on the belt on her waist where her pokeballs were tethered. He blinked in quiet puzzlement at the venom in her voice, and wondered if perhaps it would be best to be honest.

"I no longer work with Cyrus, Karen."

It seemed to work. The woman looked confused, and she backed down slightly.

"How is that? Kanto is practically run by him."

That sentence stung him.

"We no longer see eye to eye," he offered curtly, "perhaps we never did."

"Ah," she narrowed her eyes. "So you are no longer affiliated with Cyrus? Does that leave you no longer affiliated with Kanto?"

"I am certainly not affiliated with Cyrus any longer. As for Kanto…" he thought about it for a moment, "I suppose that remains to be seen."

"So who is running the nation, then?"

He kept silent. How could he answer that with her expression threatening to look so pleased at his downfall?

"I see," she replied to her own question after realizing he would not. "In that case, I have an offer for you, Lance."

The dragon-type master raised his eyebrows. The woman looked pleased, eager, but more than that she looked angry in the most threatening of ways, the kind of anger that left a person completely silent for long periods before it could be let out in a form of action.

"Let's hear it, then."

* * *

"Hey."

The hairs on the back of Ash's neck stood as he heard the door close behind the voice. Instead of looking, he chose to keep his eyes trained on the blank sheet in his hands, where he hoped to draft plans later that day. In fact he had sent Ritchie out into the early morning chill to get Brock, Misty and Gary for him so that they could begin working out the next steps. Just because he didn't want to spend much time with Gary didn't mean he could shut him out of planning – he was one of the most valuable, if not the most valuable leader Ash had to work with here.

But he certainly hadn't planned on meeting him in his cabin alone.

"I asked Ritchie to tell you to bring Brock and Misty with you, too."

"Yeah," Gary's voice replied casually. "I didn't."

Ash felt irritation brewing in his stomach, but he was not surprised in the least that Gary had ignored his request. He kept facing the desk beside the bunk bed on his side of the barracks room, trying to formulate some kind of response.

"Can you just go get them already?" He settled on exasperatedly. "Or are you here early to pick out the flaws in my ideas?"

"I'll just wait until we have an audience to get to that."

Ash rounded on him, heels swiveling on the old wooden floor, quickly having reached his limit.

"I'm asking you to do one thing," he growled. He did his best to ignore the other man's messy hair and sleepy eyes, which did nothing to detract from his looks. "Just one. Just go wake up Misty and Brock so we can all meet and be done with it."

"What's the rush, Ashy-boy?"

"Because!" He could hardly believe the audacity of that question. Had he not made himself clear? Had he not articulated how upset he was over everything Gary had said to him when he had tried to save him? "Because I don't want to see you! I don't want to talk to you!"

"Yeah," Gary acknowledged, casually as if Ash were reporting the weather to him. He was still positioned in front of the cabin's only door like a gatekeeper. "I get that. That's why we're meeting with Misty and Brock in half an hour and not now."

"We're not meeting in half an hour," Ash could have torn at his hair. "We're supposed to be meeting now."

"Great," Gary shrugged, leaning back against the door like he intended to get comfortable. "Then they're officially late. Looks like we have time to kill."

"What are you trying to pull?" He wanted to throw up his hands, anything, something. How did Gary not get how mind-blowingly impossible he was being? Or did he get it and just didn't care? "Whatever it is you have to say, can you just get it over with already and leave me alone?"

"That whole dungeon thing," he waved his hand in the air like it was a matter they could easily sweep under the rug, "I didn't mean it."

Ash paused. He thought carefully back to that moment, which was done easily enough as he replayed it every night in his mind at least a dozen times. How Gary had sworn that everything they had done was a farce that gullible little Ash had fallen for yet again.

"So…you didn't mean anything you said, back when you said you didn't mean anything you had done."

There was a quick pause where only the sound of Ash's heavy breathing could be heard, as if it was causing him physical exertion to reply.

"Do you have any idea how stupid that sounds, Gary?"

"It sounds pretty stupid."

Ash stared. For a moment he didn't feel much of anything. Slowly he realized how much he hated how calm Gary looked, how nonchalant he sounded. How his eyes were looking at him like that, and how he had left a few buttons at the top of his shirt undone, probably on purpose. How he knew all at once that it didn't actually matter to Gary whether Ash ever forgave him at all.

"Okay," he answered quietly, and then he dropped the blank sheet of paper and headed for the door despite the man who blocked it.

"That's it?" Gary did not move to make way for him, eyebrows raised in an interested fashion. "Are you done avoiding me now?"

Ash stopped. For one, he couldn't get around the man and through the door without touching him, and he wasn't sure what would happen if he touched him. He might try to strangle him to death and get his ass handed to him. Maybe he might even get a couple good punches in though, like he had when Gary had practically broken into his house on Mt. Silver. Pikachu was napping outside, so there would be no thunderbolt to the rescue this time around. Maybe they would –

_No, no, no. We absolutely wouldn't kiss. That's what this whole damn thing is about. I can grab onto him and throw him out of the way and that's all that will happen, except he might throttle me afterwards._

Two, he was practically in awe of how wildly insensitive Gary Oak could really be. Frustrated beyond belief, Ash decided to hell with it and shoved past the other man, flinging the door open. Outside, Umbreon narrowly dodged the swinging wood and he strode out the door at a brisk pace.

"Oh, _what_?" Gary spun around and cried out, finally sounding perturbed, but Ash didn't stop. "Are you kidding me? Didn't I just tell you that I didn't mean it? What do you want me to say? I had to, okay?"

Ash stormed down the path without looking back.

"Do you not believe me or something?" Gary kept going, though at this point his explanation was falling on deaf ears. "Is that it?"

Awkwardly, Ritchie turned his back from his place nearby a fire. The ex-Rocket family, who no one had really seen or heard much from since their reuniting, openly gawked. From down a worn path leading into the woods, Misty and Brock were headed back, though Ash had assumed them previously to be sleeping. As the pair approached the scene both halted, as did their conversation.

"Jupiter!" Gary called out across the way, to the next cabin over where Mars was held. The other woman was tilted back in a chair on the porch, fiddling with the gun that he so openly didn't trust her with. "Tell him already! Tell him that the whole thing was your idea!"

The ex-admin didn't as much as glance up. Ash continued down the path ignoring the scene now unfolding behind him. Gary was calling the woman's name continuously until it became painfully obvious that no amount of shouting would bring her around to aid him in the argument and he vanished within the cabin with a slam of the wooden door with a force that might have sent splinters jutting out around the edges. The sound echoed in the uncomfortable silence that followed.

Down the path, Brock sighed heavily and turned to Misty.

"You take Gary, then?"

"Forget it, she crossed her arms, "Gary's a jerk. I'll take Ash."

Brock blinked as the redhead began following after where he ex-fiance had gone into the woods.

"You will?" He scratched his head, but when she didn't reply he gave it up and headed towards the barracks.

* * *

Gary slammed the door behind him and continued fuming quietly to himself. Umbreon stepped quietly alongside him as he paced to the bed and flopped down, crossing his arms. What did Ash Ketchum want from him, anyway? Hadn't he just told him that the entire dungeon thing they had gone through hadn't been serious? Shouldn't he be forgiven now?

_Great, somebody's here. I don't need a goddamn babysitter._

The thoughts crossed his mind as the door opened steadily. It was too careful a move to be Misty, of that he was certain. Of course it couldn't be Ash. He was certain his grandfather was still asleep at this early in the morning – the sun had only just risen – though he couldn't say that his shouting hadn't woken him up. But when the door peeled back it revealed Brock Harrison behind it, and right away he groaned in reluctant expectation.

"What are you doing here," he grumbled, hardly a question. "I don't want whatever speech you whipped up in those five minutes it took you to get to my door."

"I don't have a speech," Brock assured, closing the door behind him. Unlike the approach Gary had taken with Ash, Brock came to sit on the lower bunk across from his, putting his elbows on his knees and leaving the door free for Gary's use should he decide to leave. He thought about it fleetingly before he decided he should at least entertain whatever Brock's business was here.

"What, are you here to stick up for Ash?" Gary accused. "You don't even like him."

"Of course I like Ash."

"You were on his ass about Salvador being locked up," Gary called out. "Like that was ever his fault."

Pewter's leader let out a heavy sigh and ran his hands over the threaded navy blue blankets that layered each bed in the cabin.

"I was just upset," he explained carefully. "And it's my responsibility to apologize to Ash about that today. I know it wasn't his fault. I just don't like to see my brothers and sisters in any kind of trouble."

Gary didn't answer. Umbreon glanced back and forth between him and the bed, which he ignored, until she decided to make her own decision and hopped up next to him on it.

"Okay," Gary let out a gust of air and tried not to roll his eyes. "So what are you here for?"

"I was just going to ask what happened."

"It's a long story," he shrugged like it didn't bother him, despite the fact that he was losing faith in that. "It's a long, long story that ends in Ash blowing me off for the rest of my life."

"That might be an overstatement."

"Oh, yeah?" He challenged. "Alright, then you go apologize to him instead."

"Is that what you were doing?" Brock raised an eyebrow. "Apologizing?"

"Didn't you see it for yourself?"

Brock didn't reply, watching him with a look that said enough.

"What, that wasn't a good enough apology for you?" Gary burst. "What do you want me to do, deliver him a hand-picked bouquet of wildflowers?"

"No offense, Gary," Brock began gently, "but to me all it looked like was you shouting at him."

"Well, you missed the part before that," Gary scowled. "The part where I wasn't yelling and he still wasn't listening to me."

"You know," Brock folded his hands together. It annoyed Gary, like he was sitting across the table from a therapist. "I know what happened with you and Ash."

"Huh?" His heart skipped a beat.

_Did Ash tell him? Ash must have told him. Shit._

He thought of the way Misty stared at him in Galactic's dungeon prison after she had seen him kiss the other trainer.

_But that was different. Misty is his ex-fiancé._

But there was still so much that Misty didn't know. He thought about he and Ash's time shared locked up together, once they had been moved from their cells into the overly done suite.

_No, not helpful, don't think about that._

"Ash told me," Brock shrugged, looking very nonchalant. Gary felt nerves creeping up his spine and an intense desire to excuse himself from the cabin.

"Oh," he settled on, and then tried to continue as if this enlightenment of information was not something he was hung up on. "Then you get it. Why he should just get over it and forgive me already."

"Not really, Gary," Brock chuckled a little bit, but Gary didn't see why this was a chuckling matter. "Maybe you should just give him some time. He's always really looked up to you. Hearing that you think he's gullible and in the way is probably hard for him to get over, especially considering how you've treated him in the past."

"That's not even the worst of it," Gary felt exasperated. Here Brock was, suddenly knowing about everything and now not even he understood Gary's opinion. "And looking up to me? I haven't gotten that speech since we were kids, when we were close."

"Though you two are still_ really_ close."

Gary swallowed thickly.

"Look, I'm already uncomfortable with this conversation we're having. You don't have to make it more awkward for me with that shit." He eyed the door longingly.

"What shit?"

And then everything came together. The very puzzled look Brock was giving him fit perfectly into it all and Gary let out both a sigh of relief and of despair that his anxiety that had slowly been creeping outward sentence by sentence had given it away.

"What exactly did Ash tell you?"

"That he came in to save you and Misty and that you sent him away saying you already had a plan," Brock raised his eyebrows skeptically. "Which I get wasn't actually true now. Something about you telling him that he's gullible and was jeopardizing your plan? I get that it was just about getting him to leave so that he could get out alright, but he doesn't see it yet. It's hard for him to trust you sometimes, you know? After the hard times you used to give him when we were younger."

Gary's mouth hung open only slightly. He held out both hands to begin the motions of sentence, but his voice delayed a moment longer and he hesitated a bit at the beginning.

"So…that's it. That's, you know…the entire story," he blinked. Brock nodded and gave him a funny expression that Gary knew he sounded like he deserved. "And there was nothing about a suite in there?"

"A suite?"

Gary got abruptly to his feet, startling Umbreon who tried to get to her feet quickly.

"I really have to talk to Gramps," he decided suddenly, fully intending to do nothing of the sort and heading in the direction of the door. He was shocked at how much he had almost given away, how much he had assumed Ash had already told. The whole situation made his skin crawl. There was no way he was sticking around for more pep talk with Brock Harrison. But just as he went to turn the knob, the other man grabbed him by the other elbow.

"Hey," Brock was watching him carefully, in a way that made Gary feeling like a child being studied. "I'm sorry if you didn't want to talk. I was just hoping it might help. If it's any help, I think that this will blow over. You and Ash have kept coming back to each other for years, no matter what headaches you've given each other. You're close. That counts for something."

The words were meant to be relaxing – they held nothing but warmth. But Gary was kept from feeling the full effect by the nagging feeling that Brock would be right in ways that he had no way of knowing.

"Just try to being nicer to him, alright?" Brock offered a smile. "I know you have it in you somewhere. Stand up for him or something instead of knocking him down. You'll see. He'll appreciate it."

Gary let the words soak into his mind.

"Brock," he finished, "you sound like you're my older brother or something. Cut it out."

"Sorry," Brock smiled sheepishly. "But not like I'm trying to be your father, right?"

"Huh?"

"Forrest has been heckling me about that," Brock explained with a slightly dejected tone, but Gary wasn't sure if it were the idea that his brother thought he treated him like a father would that disappointed the Pewter leader, or the idea that his brother might not appreciate it that did. Either way, Gary was glad for the change of topic.

"I have no idea what my father sounds like," Gary offered a laugh and shook his head, "consider yourself lucky."

He headed outside and called Umbreon after him, waiting for her to catch up at his heels. But when he turned he did not find the familiar faces of their group scattered about the barracks area. Instead what caught his eye the most were the three new ones all simultaneously confronting Ash Ketchum, quickly catching the attention of those nearby, including himself. But he was more struck than the others seemed to be as they gathered around. Gary Oak wasted no time striding up to the newcomers and dismissing the cold shoulder he knew Ash to be giving him.

"What the hell is he doing here?" Gary snapped, outstretching an arm to point an accusing finger.

It was Kanto's Champion - DragonMaster Lance.


	34. Moments of Insanity

I'll skip the excuses, and get straight to the chapter. I hope it satisfies you all (are any of you still out there? Hello? I hope so!), and I hope that it was worth the wait. With classes having just ended, I have had a lot of time to flesh this story out a little further, and with that comes writing. Yes, you heard, I have been writing. Writing Footsoldiers! Imagine that!

**Disclaimer: I don't own Pokemon. Cover your children's eyes.**

* * *

Ash felt like having a panic attack. The only part of this situation that he was okay with was the presence of Leader Whitney in this group of newcomers. However, flanking her either side was Champion of Johto Karen, with whom he had not gotten off to the greatest start with, and Champion of Kanto Lance, who he was trying not to look at. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the cape billowing out behind the man as usual, along with the high-class attire he wore and the color of his hair. He didn't want to acknowledge this man who had caused his humiliating defeat all those years ago. Here was the very man who had changed his life – and he doubted that Lance even knew it, or even would recognize him. He was just one of many challengers, and certainly not a memorable one.

Gary Oak seemed to have his own quarrel with the Champion of Kanto, though, and was having no trouble addressing it.

"Good to see you again, Oak," Lance growled, though his expression contradicted his words and gave Ash the impression that he had smelled something foul. Gary snorted.

"The pleasure is all yours."

Whitney cleared her throat carefully. Champion Karen was watching him steadily, and he couldn't read her expression. Was she thinking about what he was? About their last and first encounter, where she had turned him into Galactic authorities without hearing a word of their argument?

"Champions Karen and Lance would like to be of service to the cause," Whitney began cautiously, her shoulders tense. Ash blinked in a mixture of surprise and confusion, but Gary had more of an outward reaction.

"Excuse me?" He burst, still scowling. "Lance is working with Galactic. Ash, what the hell is going on here?"

He glanced over at the other man, who was watching him expectantly. He decided now was not the time to make their disagreements known to these two powerful leaders and swallowed.

"Leader Whitney has helped us out before," he began carefully, "she's a friend. You can trust her."

"Last I heard," Gary continued, turning his narrowed eyes on the Johto Champion, "Karen wasn't exactly friendship material. I'd love to say it's nice to see you again, by the way, but I don't think it is anymore."

Ash remembered with some surprise that Gary was naturally already acquainted with Champion Karen. She had been the Champion of Johto for many years, including those during which Gary had reigned over Kanto. The older woman nodded curtly at him.

"If you would," Whitney continued, staring into his eyes in a way that begged him to listen, "I'd like you to listen to them explain. They've both already pitched their changes of heart to me."

"I don't –"

"Sure," Ash interrupted, and Gary fell uneasily silent, crossing his arms and glaring momentarily at him. "I want to hear it."

Meanwhile Misty and Brock had come up on Ash's left, keeping a few feet between themselves and the conversing five. Professor Oak had shuffled to Mars' cabin to sit beside Jupiter on the porch. The ex-Rockets were congregating outside of their own cabin and the various Petalburg volunteers were beginning to mingle over as well. The group was attracting all the attention that Iron Island had to offer.

"I was once allied with Team Galactic," Karen began before Lance could. She kept her eyes level with Ash's while she spoke as if no one else she could address mattered. "That's something I'm sure you remember. Something has happened to sway my allegiances…and I knew my Goldenrod City leader felt the same as I do now. So I went to see her, only to find her absent. I was told that I could find her in Petalburg City in Hoenn – something I considered strange, perhaps even insulting, but I went anyway."

"What happened, then?" Gary posed, looking unconvinced. "You say something happened to sway your allegiances. Do you think that's enough for us? What exactly was it?"

Karen was silent for a moment. She still hadn't looked away from his eyes even as Gary addressed her.

"Cyrus promised me that he could help my daughter," she began more quietly. "But instead she's now lost to me forever. She cannot recognize her own mother. I see now that the entire deal was a ploy to earn my allegiances. Team Galactic exploited my daughter's condition and took me for a fool."

"So what was her condition?"

"Gary," the other man jumped ever so slightly when someone behind them laid a hand on his shoulder. It was Professor Oak, having hobbled from his perch beside Jupiter to join them. "Perhaps some things are better left private."

"It's good to see you again, Professor," Karen smiled slightly and dipped her head. "How fortunate that you escaped as well."

"Isn't it?" Oak offered the same in return, keeping his grip on his grandson's shoulder. Ash felt both relief and disappointment that Gary did not continue pressing. He did not want to quarrel with these leaders so early on if they were truly here to help, but he had to admit that curiosity plagued him about Karen's history with Galactic.

"And I," Lance began his introduction with a voice that brought back memories Ash desperately wanted to ignore, "have been…let go, from Galactic service. Cyrus has betrayed me and my trust and I am no longer affiliated with him. He runs Kanto alone now, until something can be done about it."

"He always ran Kanto alone," Gary growled unsympathetically. "You were blind."

Ash noticed the professor's grip on his grandson's shoulder tighten ever so slightly.

"If you could fill us in on your progress," Karen took the reins, "that would be most appreciated. Lance and I do need to know where to begin."

"We'll get together and discuss that tonight," Ash began, and as he outstretched an arm to tell them where they would be staying and thank them for their assistance, Lance cut him off.

"I do think it would be simpler if you handed over your plans to us," the man suggested. "Things could perhaps progress more smoothly."

"And swiftly," Karen added as well. "I have not seen much action against Galactic publicly."

Ash blinked.

_They're criticizing us. They – they don't think that we can do this._

"Oh, no," Gary spoke up and this time he shook off his grandfather's hand and took a step forward, closing the gap between he and Lance even further. "You think you're in charge now, don't you?"

Lance didn't flinch.

"It seems only right," he replied smoothly. So close together, Ash could see that the two men were almost exactly the same height, and Gary's blue eyes were unfaltering in their stare. Ash wondered what it must be like to have the man who usurped you once before and then retired out of sheer boredom challenging you once again.

"That's where we disagree, Lance," he chuckled bitterly. Ash did not notice it, but Lance swallowed so thickly it could be seen in his throat. "And if you want to take over, you're going to have to do it just like anybody else would."

To Ash's surprise, Gary threw him a look over his shoulder and smirked.

"Ready, Ash?"

"Huh?" Ash could hardly come up with something more intelligent to say. What was Gary suggesting? Did he have any idea who was standing in front of him?

_Oh my God. Gary is _not_ doing this to me –_

"Back up, everybody!" Gary spun around and shouted, grasping Ash by the elbow and dragging him along until they had migrated about fifty feet back. Meanwhile, Lance and Karen had spread out as well, and the crowd, anticipating what might be about to occur, were retreating to their porches for the show. "Still want to be in charge, Lance?"

The other man was too far now to pick up on subtle expressions, but Ash saw him nod. Karen stood off to the side, young umbreon kneading his paws into the ground impatiently.

"And what do you think you're doing, Karen?" Gary addressed her. "This is a double battle!"

"What are you doing?" Ash desperately tried to get Gary's attention, but the brunette was caught up in the display he was putting on.

"Alright, you two," he called across the clearing. "Each of us gets one pokemon, alright? If either of you are the last ones standing, you both lead. If that doesn't suit you, duke it out between yourselves. If Ash or myself are the last ones standing, we keep leading like we have been." He smirked briefly and flashed Ash a look that he couldn't ignore. "Together."

_Together -?_

"Gary," he grabbed the other man's sleeve in a final attempt to gain his attention. Finally, as their opponents were discussing their own strategy briefly, Gary spared him a moment. "What the hell are you doing? You know who those people are, right? You know that I've already – I already lost to Lance once, remember?"

"Yeah?" Gary blinked like this was the least of his concerns. "Don't tell me you're chickening out."

"I'm not chickening out," he insisted instantly. Here Gary was declaring that they were in joint control of this group – he had sounded as if the constant fights, the disagreements and the drama had never happened or were not relevant – and he did not want him regretting it already. "But what if –"

"Then call out a pokemon," Gary smiled, "and kick some ass with me."

It was a more sincere smile than Ash could ever remember seeing on the other man's face in a great many years. Never before could he recall Gary looking so ready to fight alongside Ash – had they ever actually fought alongside one another? Their days as opponents were many, but their longstanding rivalry had rarely allowed for partnership. The breeze was blowing his hair about and for that moment he looked so completely genuine that Ash couldn't help himself.

_Shit._

"And Ash?" Gary added, and Ash realized he still had a grip on his arm and didn't want to let go. He took a deep breath and shook his head slightly to clear it.

_Come on, Ash. Think of the battle._

"You might be scared shitless of Lance," Gary whispered, and his voice made Ash's heart beat faster, "but Lance is scared shitless of me – and I have your back."

Gary had his back.

_Gary has my back._

"On three," Karen suddenly called from the other side. "One –"

Pikachu head-butted his calf lightly to get his attention. He looked down at the little electric-type and already regretted what he knew he was going to say.

"Two –"

"I'm really sorry, buddy," he began, and Pikachu let out a spark like he was already displeased. "But Lance has huge dragon-types, and Feraligatr is strong against them. Remember when we fought that dragonite near Blackthorn City? We need that kind of advantage, since Karen might send out her umbreon against Gary's."

Pikachu let out an angry chitter and sparked again, this time harder. Ash frowned.

"Three!"

"Feraligatr, go!" He cried, throwing forth the ball in spite of his starter's protests. From off to the right, Umbreon dashed out into the field from Gary's side. Ahead of them, Lance's ball flew into the air and Karen's younger umbreon shot out like a bullet from her side to take on his opponents. As Ash had assumed would happen, from Lance's pokeball an enormous dragonite burst onto the field, which still towered over Feraligatr, who stood about chest-height against his opponent. He couldn't allow himself to doubt his abilities now. Gary had put more faith in him today than perhaps ever before, and it was up to him to prove that this would be a worthwhile investment.

"If that's all that's left of your old team, Oak," Lance called haughtily from across the battlefield, "then I have nothing to worry about."

"So you were worried before?" Gary grinned devilishly. The current Champion scowled. "I wouldn't get too comfortable. I'm not the only one on the field."

Feraligatr caught Lance's dragonite in a charge, wincing slightly at the weight but holding his ground, the two huge beasts locking fists. The two umbreons were circling one another, hissing menacingly, when Karen's younger dark-type darted in and Gary's dodged only by a single step. The battle quickly kicked into full swing. Lance's dragonite took the impact of a hydro pump by Feraligatr, and the water-type soon after failed to dodge a massive swing by the dragon-type's tail. Ash heard the crunch of scale against scale as the impact struck and winced. Meanwhile, the two umbreons were locked in a match of hisses and brief connecting moments when Karen's managed to trip up Gary's and land her on her side, forcing her to roll onto her back to press her limbs up against the belly of her speedier opponent.

"Don't let him psyche you out, Umbreon!" Gary called out to his starter and she tossed her younger opponent off of her and rolled to safety. Meanwhile, the dragonite let out a bellow as Feraligatr landed an ice punch, a move that brought Ash's heart up into his throat.

_That's a good sign. We need more of those. We just need more of those –_

But a pokemon trained under Lance was not one to be taken lightly, and the dragonite used the moment of connection between Feraligatr's fist and his own chest as a moment to shriek out and grasp at Ash's pokemon's sides with arms that were just long enough to reach under the circumstances, trying to scrape away at scales with his claws. Then Ash's eyes widened as his jaws unhinged widely and lowered swiftly to envelope Feraligatr's skull.

"Feraligatr, look out!"

But the water-type was already on it, having ripped away his ice punch, pulling sensitive underbelly skin from the dragon-type and blackening the surrounding area in favor of throwing out his reptilian fists and catching either jaw in open palms. The force of the dragonite's gaping maw bearing down on him proved too much quickly and Feraligatr was crushed against the ground, but still keeping a grip on either jaw to prevent the mortal damage that could be inflicted from such fangs. Gary's eyes flashed from off to the side.

"Umbreon, we need a distraction over there!"

The dark-type rushed away from her opponent without hesitation, who dashed after her expectantly, waiting to take advantage of the lapse in attention. She whisked beneath the legs of the stout dragon-type, spine brushing up against him as she ducked, before she spun about and leapt up towards the frost-bitten wound that Feraligatr had left open and buried her jaws around a mouthful of it. Dragonite howled so loudly that several spectators covered their ears, and his concentration on the water-type was broken, allowing Feraligatr to slip out from beneath the ominous fangs and lunge in, replacing Umbreon with a much more formidable bite as the dark-type dropped down and ducked away from the two behemoths. However as she reappeared on the other side of the dragonite, her opponent lie in wait and the younger umbreon caught her to the side, knocking her into a belly-up position once again, straining eagerly for her vulnerable throat and abdomen as she pressed frantically against him.

"Topple him, Feraligatr!" Ash cried. "Get to Umbreon!"

"She'll be fine!" Gary called back harshly, the tone not towards him or his starter, but clearly out of concern that he would not admit. "Focus on Lance!"

The water-type brought both hands up to the dragonite's chest and pressed back, combined with the force of his bite against the ice punch's wound, and brought the dragonite leaning backwards until he toppled. Lance was calling out commands, but Feraligatr clearly had the upper hand now, positioned firmly and flatly on the belly of the larger reptile, unwavering grip still against the blackened skin beneath scales. Meanwhile, Gary's umbreon was still fighting with all she had to keep the younger pokemon at bay, who kept up a relentless assault, biting at her paws and legs to distract her from the protecting she needed to provide her more vulnerable parts.

"Less physical, Umbreon!" Gary shouted. "Shadow ball!"

But the Champion of Johto seemed to have the same plan in mind. Both dark-types materialized a sudden burst of shadowy energy that fizzled and cracked between them, before sending them both skidding back equally, allowing Umbreon to scatter to her feet.

Then it happened - a glaring blend of purple and red hues came bursting forth from the dragonite's maw even as he lay belly up against the ground, spraying the area and connecting with Feraligatr. Spectators ducked and a few people shrieked with the unexpected power of it, Feraligatr dislodged immediately from his place on the dragon's chest and rocketed backwards into the grass before tumbling against the ground. The umbreons had both jumped at the energy, but Gary's more experienced starter had regained her composure first, leaping at the distracted younger male and wedging her teeth into the side of his neck, tearing her head back and forth as he yipped and hissed.

"Feraligatr!" Ash cried, making a fist with either hand as smoke rose from the opponents open mouth and both reptiles lay in their respective places, increasingly spent. Feraligatr didn't move, but he could see the steep rise and fall of his chest as he fought for air.

"That's it!" Gary shouted eagerly, not looking nearly as unfazed by the explosion as he sounded. "Take him down!"

Ash spared a glance at the umbreons to find Gary's had the other pinned, still gripping to his neck firmly and enduring the frantic scratches whilst placing her own. Then unexpectedly she let go, hopped a few yards back as the younger pokemon scurried to his feet, and crackled with dark energy before practically vanishing in a blip of speed and shadow as she rushed her opponent, colliding with him, throwing him painfully backwards.

"Another faint attack if you can, Umbreon!" Gary cried, but Ash wasn't sure that it would be possible. The older umbreon was panting harder than ever before after her most recent attack, as if it were more of a struggle for her to dish out hits than to take them. Meanwhile the dragonite was struggling to right himself, something that Ash knew would spell trouble for them if he were successful.

"Feraligatr! I need you to get up!"

There was a low rumble in response.

"If that dragonite stands, we don't have a chance!" He cried out. "Umbreon doesn't have the size to knock him over and you aren't in the shape to anymore! You can do this!"

Of course he could. Ash had it in his mind, like he always had, that his pokemon were capable of anything. He knew that if he had put Pikachu in this battle that the little electric-type could and would give it the fight of his life. He didn't in order to spare his own mind the worry and to keep his starter from sustaining unnecessary injury. It was not in Ash's head to doubt his pokemon, but to doubt himself – that was a different matter. He was still anxiously aware of who his opponent was. He was facing off against Lance, the same man who had blown through his team at the League without breaking a sweat. Something that he did not for a moment think had been the fault of his pokemon.

_I don't know if I can –_

"Keep it up, Ash!" Gary's voice cut through his thoughts unexpectedly. "You're giving him a real run for his money!"

He glanced over at the brunette, who was so engrossed in the battle unfolding before them that he had not looked over to call out his encouragement. But he didn't need to. There was no brief moment of contact between their eyes, or anything more added to Gary's statement. The other man was there, fighting alongside him instead of against him, and he was offering support instead of jeers.

"Get up!" Ash commanded with more force than before. "Do you hear me? We can do this! Just don't let the dragonite get up and we've already won!"

With an exhausted snort, Feraligatr did rise to his feet. Lowering down to support his weight on all fours, the reptile unhinged his jaw and took in a giant suck of air.

"Build up to it!" Ash shouted, ready to finish the fight. At that moment Gary's umbreon delivered another faint attack, connecting with her opponent's temple, who dropped to the ground unconscious instantly. Karen cried something unintelligible from across the field, but then Gary's umbreon faltered and collapsed to one side. He could see her ribs heaving as the air around Feraligatr's maw began to crystallize.

"C'mere, girl!" Gary was kneeling down and beckoning with both hands for the dark-type to make her way towards him. Clearly, her part in the battle was over, as she failed to acknowledge her trainer's call in any way other than the twitch of her ears against the grass. Gary continued to call patiently as ice began to creep across the water-type's fangs, but his face betrayed more concern than his tone. Lance called out a command for his dragonite, one that Ash feared would be more encouragement to get back on his feet, but to his horror the DragonMaster had something else in mind. The beast lolled his head to the left, and opened his jaw for another dragon breath attack, this time directed at the motionless umbreon.

"You cheap bastard!" Gary shouted, eyes widening, as he realized the man's next move. The familiar purple and red colors were forming in the back of the behemoths open throat, but Lance did not call it off. Umbreon was still on the battlefield, and she was still conscious. It did not matter that this was because Gary did not own a pokeball for her any longer, and that she could not find the strength to drag herself back to him. Technically, she was fair game.

"Feraligatr, hurry!" Ash looked frantically between his pokemon, the wounded Umbreon and Gary. The water-type cocked his shoulders back in preparation to fire the ice beam. At his feet, Pikachu was hopping anxiously, chattering away and sending out sparks. He either sensed the impending end of the battle, or was as nervous of the outcome as the rest of them.

"Fire it!" Gary cried out. "Fire it now! We're going to win no matter what!"

That much was true. Lance's dragonite would not be capable of continuing the battle after taking the ice beam that Feraligatr was about to deliver. Karen's umbreon was out cold. Even with Gary' umbreon down for the count, they would win. But it remained to be seen whether or not the dark-type could take any more damage, and that was the outcome that worried him more than anything.

Then, to his shock and terror, something small and yellow shot out from at his feet. It alarmed him so badly that he leaped forward, arms outstretched, fingers grasping at the escaping thing before hitting the ground solidly and watching Pikachu dart out onto the field.

"Pikachu!" He shouted. "Stop!_ Stop!"_

But the electric-type paid no heed. He scattered onto the field just far enough to reach the panting umbreon, where he proceeded to leap over her side and deliver a few light head-butts into her chest. The dark-type squirmed, but barely, and then subsided. This did not appease Ash's starter, who hopped back a step and squeaked with a light spark, which jolted through Umbreon enough to get her to raise her head with surprise.

At the same time, Feraligatr fired his ice beam. The ray of blindingly white shards pierced the dragonite's scales and flesh within moments of being fired, but not before he sent his own attack billowing towards the pair of starters in a whirlwind of color. Gary looked ghostly white, and Ash watched from the grass, unable to find the thought to get back to his feet as the attack went spiraling towards them. Then the battlefield erupted in a burst of light, spectators shielding their eyes, as Pikachu countered the dragon breath with a thunderbolt to the ground directly in front of it, splitting the energy-charged smoke and dissipating the attack before it could reach the pair of them. Dragonite's bellow as he took the full force of the ice beam was only partially drowned out by the crack of thunder, and within seconds the dragon-type had mercifully fallen unconscious.

Gary was upon the field before anyone else. To Ash's surprise and confusion, he did not halt beside their starters and tend to Umbreon, but continued right past her. It was only after a moment of thought that Ash realized what his intentions were and scrambled to his feet to pursue him.

"You want to make this personal, Lance?" He could hear Gary shouting so loudly that his throat must have been growing hoarse. The entire field had fallen eerily silent in comparison to the previous sounds of battle. Aside from Gary's rising tirade, there was silence. As he covered the ground between himself and the Champion of Kanto ever further he rolled up a sleeve of his jacket.

Brock and Misty were coming quickly to the scene from his right, but Ash made it there first. Just before the first punch could be thrown, he reached out and grasped Gary's pulled back elbow, yanking backwards with all his might to keep the blow from rocketing forward as intended. Lance smirked when he noticed this, but beforehand he had appeared as pale as Gary had been when he had realized that Umbreon was in the line of fire.

"Now, now," he began as Ash threw his other arm around the man's shoulders to keep him steady. "Let's not act like complete barbarians, Oak. You won, I lost. What more do you have to prove?"

Gary, breathing hard, shouldered himself free of Ash's grip and backed up a few steps as Brock and Misty came to stand between the pair. Eyes never having left his target, he scowled.

"You want to stay and take orders from me?" He growled. "Fine. I hope you enjoy your stay in hell."

With that he turned swiftly back towards Umbreon and Pikachu and closed the gap between them.

* * *

Gary was fuming. In his bed lay his exhausted umbreon, who had passed out after the battle with Lance and Karen and stirred only if the pikachu at the foot of her bed attempted to leave. Gary wasn't entirely sure that this was what the electric-type had intended to sign up for, as he stared longingly at the door and attempted to make goes for it only to be lured back by the other pokemon's dejected whining. Ash's pikachu didn't seem like the affectionate type, and he certainly didn't look like he wanted to start playing that role, but Gary's umbreon had a face that you just didn't say no to – or at least, _he_ certainly thought so.

To encourage him to stay, Gary occasionally tossed the little pokemon scraps from his plate that Brock had brought him, which he was hardly touching anyway. In his book, Pikachu could have just about anything he wanted for stepping in to defend his starter, even if he wasn't entirely sure why the pokemon had done it.

"Hey, maybe you're smarter than you look," Gary muttered, tossing another bite. "And you've found it in your heart to forgive me. Put in a good word with that trainer of yours, okay?"

No significant response came as the electric-type chowed down.

_Umbreon has been asleep for a couple hours tops,_ he thought to himself dismally, _and I've already started trying to have conversations with Ash's bratty pokemon. This is what happens to people who burn all their bridges with _actual_ people. I'm starting to unravel._

The creaking of the door behind him startled him briefly before it got his blood boiling again. There was a chance that this could be Lance, wandering into the wrong cabin. He still wasn't through with that asshole.

"Whoa," but it wasn't Lance, it was Ash Ketchum, who had his hands held up unassumingly as Gary had already spun around to his feet and prepared to make his advance, "I hope you're not about to come after me, too."

"What the hell would I go after you for," he grumbled and fell back into his chair anticlimactically. "I thought you were Lance."

"I don't think Lance is going to waltz into your cabin any time soon," Ash clarified, "sorry to burst your bubble. How's Umbreon?"

"Out cold," he answered. "Voluntarily, though. More than Lance's pathetic dragon can say."

"Pikachu doing okay in here?"

"Oh, yeah," he propped back and sighed. "He's bored out of his mind, but I guess he's got a tiny little heart after all because he still won't leave."

"Pikachu is a nice guy," Ash, to his surprise, pulled up a chair next to him and plopped into it. "He just doesn't want anybody to figure that out. Which reminds me…"

Gary glanced at the other man from the corner of his eye, unsure where that sentence was going.

"Thanks for sticking by me today," he finished with a shrug, to reassure the statement's nonchalance. But it didn't have the same effect that Gary's did when he performed the same action, and it looked forced and uncomfortable on Ash. Genuine, even if he sounded dorky doing it, looked better on him than anything akin to Gary's cool air.

"It was nothing," he responded, still not looking towards the other man. But he didn't speak coldly or dismissively. In truth, he was surprised that Ash had bothered to thank him at all. When was the last time he had thanked him for anything?

_When was the last time you did anything for him worth thanking you for?_

"Everybody's out by the fire," Ash added after a moment of silence. "Well, not Karen and Lance, but you should be happy about that. If you want to come out there with us."

The last sentence was tacked on like an afterthought, like Ash had assumed that Gary would not realize his previous statement was meant as an invitation. But it was suddenly completely clear to Gary what was happening – Ash was forgiving him. He blinked several times as this thought sunk in, and then he turned his head to make eye contact at last.

"So what are you saying?"

"Huh?" Ash swallowed visibly. "I'm just saying you should come outside with me. Us. You know, everyone. If you want –"

"You're a real dolt sometimes, you know that?" He didn't even have the energy to throw in a condescending chuckle, not after the day's events, nor did he have the energy to play around any further when for perhaps once in their lives the two of them were on the same page. Ash didn't have to swallowing and choppy sentences and big eyes Ash couldn't have made their situation any more clear.

"Wha -!" Ash may have attempted some kind of protest, but Gary would never entirely know, because he ignored it as he lunged from his chair and his lips collided gently with the other man's, hands sweeping under his knees to lift him closer. Ash's attempt at words quickly died out and he wrapped his arms around the taller man's shoulders, though wiggled free of his hold that kept him in the air, as if he disliked being held even so slightly by the other. Gary continued forward until the Ash's back was pressed up against the wall, working his fingertips beneath the other's shirt and dragging them lightly along his back.

Maybe it was that he was so worked up over the day's events that he felt compelled to make such a bold move, or perhaps Gary Oak was just sick and tired of the endless stream of baggage that he and Ash Ketchum seemed to drag along with them at every turn in their relationship. But right then, in that moment, he had more pressing issues.

It took only a moment longer for Ash to become fully engrossed in the kiss, and Gary could feel it in the way his muscles relaxed and his body molded against the shape of his. As the darker haired man buried his fingers in the other's hair, Gary relocated his lips from Ash's to the crook of his neck with quick desperation. Part of him wanted to take as long as possible to enjoy this situation that he somehow found himself in, and another part of him insisted that he hurry through it as frantically as possible. This was the two of them, after all – Gary Oak and Ash Ketchum – and what chance did the two of them have at maintaining peace long enough to follow through with something like this?

His train of thought, however brief, was silenced when a soft moan reached his ears and begged him to continue. One hand dropped below Ash's waistband, the man's breath catching. Then, Ash pushed him away.

_Shit, he didn't want – he's not – I fucked up –_

But the series of thoughts, all negative and all of which battled for supremacy during that free moment in his mind, were quickly dashed when Ash gripped his arms, spun him so that he was back to the wall and pressed him up against it. This was surprising enough, but then he dropped down suddenly and in one fluid movement had Gary's jeans around his ankles, taking him into his mouth.

From there, the concept of considering one's actions was disregarded.

Gary had one hand wrapped in the other man's hair, his hat having been knocked to the floor, which no longer seemed to exist. The brunette's chest could be seen visibly rising and falling, quickening in pace until he used his hand to wrench the other's head back and away from him in a way that might have been painful, and yet Ash looked nothing less than incredibly aroused. The shorter trainer let himself be pressed back onto the floor as the other descended swiftly onto him, taking either leg and wrapping it around his own waist. Their lips met again with ever increasing urgency and Gary's hands did not seem able to find a place to settle as they roamed across the other's body. Then they gripped his waist as he pressed forward and felt tightness giving way around him, still slick from Ash's attentions.

Now it was Ash's hands that seemed not to find a suitable place, as they began in Gary's hair, only to move to his back as if they would dig patterns into his skin through the shirt he still wore, and then to the floor like they intended to pull up planks. His back arched, pushing him closer to the man thrusting above him. He panted and moaned wildly, the man on top lowering his hands to push against his legs and keep the one beneath him from writhing too much.

Ash was making words, but Gary wasn't keeping track of what they were. The only thing he could be certain of was the occasional slip of his name from those lips, which became more frequent as his own faint groans began to escape him. He felt the pleasure rise to a crescendo, riding it in fast waves before his entire body relaxed.

The room was quiet but for the steady panting from both parties. Then Gary sat up, adjusting himself to bring his jeans back up to his waist. Ash was still on his back, breathing heavily and staring up at the ceiling, his freckled face flushed.

"Hey," Gary swallowed, but his throat was parched and it slid down uncomfortably. This didn't bother him in the slightest. "Are you – uh –"

Ash seemed to know what he was asking without him having to form the words.

"I'm okay. I'm – I'm _great._ I –" he pulled himself into a sitting position and upon catching blue eyes, covered his face with one hand. Then Ash began to laugh, and somehow this inspired him to do the same. "I'm just not going to talk."

"Yeah, well I'm definitely not going to talk then. Except to mention…"

"What?" Ash's hands fell away, revealing an extremely worried face. Gary would have laughed more heartily at that if he had not been as tired as he was.

"We just, uh," he motioned dismissively towards the bed nearby, "well, that just happened in front of your pikachu."

"What?" Ash's head whipped around, where dutifully beside Umbreon lie a disgruntled looking Pikachu, ears flat against his back and buried almost entirely into the blankets save for his annoyed eyes. The dark-type, however, seemed to still be so worn from the battle earlier that she had remained passed out for the entirety of the event.

"Yeah, and my pokemon's asleep, so…" he trailed off and shrugged, "I'm pretty sure that makes you a bad parent."

He would have gloated further over this fact, but a knock at the door startled them both. Ash had his hands around his waistband and was pulling it up over his legs far before Gary had made it to the door, trying to peer through the much worn window without moving the drapes and giving himself away.

"Who is it?"

"I can't see!" He whispered back harshly. When he heard no sound of movement, he spun around and motioned with both hands. "Hide or something!"

He tried to keep from laughing harder as Ash crawled beneath one of the beds. It was a struggle as he gripped his sides, chuckling madly as the other disappeared noisily beneath the blankets hanging off the side. He could hear Ash beginning to crack too, and silenced his laughter with a stern warning that he was going to be opening the door. This was it, the moment he would finally snap and lose his mind completely. Why was he laughing? He was fairly certain that he had just had sex with Ash Ketchum – no, there was nothing _fairly_ certain about it – and now he was laughing, and somebody was outside, bound to walk in and demand to know what his stupid grin was all about when he had been brooding alone all day about – oh, what had he been upset about again?

_Don't know, not important. Brock is a genius, with all his 'be nice' and 'big brother' bullshit - who knew?_

Why was it so hard not to laugh?

"Hey," he whispered with one hand on the doorknob, "are we still fighting?"

"No!" He almost dissolved into hysterics as the reply came from beneath furniture. "Answer the door, are you insane?"

The answer to that was yes, a resounding yes, and when the door swung open and a pale, wide-eyed Misty was there, somehow his euphoria did not dissipate.

_Stop grinning, stop grinning, I can't look into his ex-fiancé's eyes and grin, how am I looking into Misty's eyes and –_

"Gary," she did not hesitate, not even to comment on the blush of his cheeks or the castaway appearance of his hair, "Mars escaped."

He stopped grinning.


	35. Scramble

**Disclaimer: I do not own Pokemon.**

* * *

Outside, things were rapidly dissolving into chaos. All present parties had called out their pokemon and were scrambling about. Misty keeping swiftly at his side, Gary hurried out into the field.

"What do you mean, 'she escaped'?" He demanded. He ran a hand through his hair in agitation. From the darkening sky, snow was beginning to fall.

"Oak!" Karen had arrived at his free side before Misty could reply. "You had a high-risk prisoner in your midst and neglected to –"

"I don't have time for this now, okay?" He shot back impatiently. She fell back in silence, but followed him in tow nonetheless. The sun was rapidly beginning to fall, and he knew that this spelled for even more serious trouble. "Where is Jupiter?"

"Karen," the voice behind him surprised him slightly, and he realized that he had failed to notice Ash Ketchum make his way from the cabin and down into the mess unfolding around them, "secure a perimeter. Lance's dragons will be a huge help. You'll both work on that together."

Whatever got the two Champions out of his hair, he was glad for. Then he spotted a violet-haired woman approaching, the very one he had been scanning the crowd for.

"There you are," he reached out impatiently and snagged her by the elbow. She drew back with a defensive look. He spoke in demanding hushed tones and stepped closer to make up for the space she had put between them. "Where is she?"

A stern face looked back at him, the two of them shutting out the drama carrying on around them. More pokemon were emerging from their balls, and Ash's voice could be heard trying to quell the growing panic.

"I don't know."

"How do you not know?"

"She escaped," Jupiter hissed. "I didn't set her_ free._"

"So where do you think she's going to go, then?" He growled. "Shouldn't you have some kind of idea?"

"Not back to Team Galactic if she values her life."

"That doesn't help us," he crossed his arms, mind racing. "We're scanning the perimeter already, we're –"

"We need all unnecessary persons indoors," Jupiter interrupted plainly in an authoritative tone. Gary didn't like it, but he let her continue. "Preferably the same building. We don't want to lose track of anyone. Someone should be in charge of roll call."

"Right," Gary mumbled, then spoke up. "Ash?"

The trainer turned mid-command.

"Find May, will you?" He asked reasonably. "Tell her to round up the Petalburg volunteers and get in a cabin. She's in charge of roll call."

"One cabin for all of those people?" Ash voiced an unspoken concern of his, blinking. Jupiter spoke up before he could reply.

"If they're unhappy with the cramped quarters," she spoke condescendingly, "tell them that the afterlife is extremely spacious."

Ash ignored the attitude and turned back to his work, jogging off to find the brunette. Gary sighed and looked back towards the ex-admin.

"You still have that gun, right?"

The woman patted her hip where it sat.

"Of course," she assured him, "but I know Mars. She doesn't need a gun to kill."

"At least she only has her hands to work with," he sighed with agitation, running hands through his hair as he thought.

"Her pokemon."

"What?" He paused. "We have them."

"No," his stomach dropped slowly as Jupiter carried on. "Not anymore."

"Aren't you supposed to be a professional warden or something?!" Gary burst, keeping his hands balled into fists lest he reach out with them and strangle the woman delivering the news. "I thought keeping prisoners was your_ thing?"_

"Yes, well," Jupiter snapped back, "you might say that escaping is Mars' _'thing'_, and has been for many, many years. I warned you –"

"Enough," Gary and Jupiter had been so engrossed in their conversation that both had failed to notice the professor approaching. The old man smacked a hand down on the woman's shoulder, and it made Gary's stomach tighten with jealousy. "Night is falling and it is beginning to snow. We need to send out patrols."

"Already on it," Brock confirmed from nearby, and began shouting out and waving to round up all available and capable hands. Gary surveyed the options once the entire group had arrived. Before he could come to any conclusions that he was particularly fond of, Ash spoke up loudly.

"Ritchie," he began his orders, "I want you here holding down the fort. Brenda, Salvador, Forrest – you stay with the volunteers."

"What?" Forrest balked blatantly.

"You don't have any pokemon," Ash tried to placate. Brock was nodding approvingly, something that hardly surprised Gary.

"I have that weepinbell!" Forrest protested loudly with just as much conviction. "I've been working with it –"

"You heard him, Forrest," Brock interjected, but to Gary's intrigue Ash then interrupted.

"You're confident that your weepinbell is ready?" He asked. Forrest nodded eagerly. "Fine. Then you're with me. Brock, don't argue, there isn't time."

"I have my heracross," Brenda protested as well. This time, Gary stepped in.

"Then you're with Brock," he delegated. The darker man couldn't get sour with him over a call like that, and even though he thought Brenda's heracross was the puniest he had ever seen he wasn't about to waste time fighting about it. "Misty –"

"I have no pokemon," she crossed her arms and anticipated where he had been about to take that sentence. "But if you think I'm sitting this out, you're wrong."

"Fine," Gary began, but Ash tossed out the solution in the form of a red and white contraption which landed in her outstretched palms.

"Take my Feraligatr," he offered, and at the name she practically beamed. "You'll go with the Rockets."

"We're not Rockets," the twins said in unison, and yet there had apparently been no question among them who was being referred to. Their parents were nowhere to be seen, but nobody seemed to be searching for them.

"You're staying here, right, Gramps?" Gary confirmed less harshly. The older man nodded.

"I'll put your mind at ease a little, my boy," he grinned slightly. It did comfort him to know that his grandfather wouldn't insist on carrying off into the woods, but he was no less worried about the situation they all faced.

"Gary," Ash addressed, calling his attention to the other man's dark eyes. They were watching him intently. "That leaves you with Jupiter."

There was a pause between them, whereas the chatter among the group carried on, where Ash lowered his voice and added more.

"You know that, right?"

"Of course I do," he returned, though truthfully he had not noticed until too late that he had stuck himself with her. With snow falling ever faster, he locked eyes with the woman and raised his voice.

_Whatever. I can deal with her if it means we capture Mars._

"Alright, everyone. Let's get going."

* * *

The redheaded woman rushed past the motionless figure that dropped at her feet. For a moment she considered rifling through his possessions, but she lacked the time and patience. Instead she hurried on through the trees and brush as soundlessly as she could manage.

This was not Administrator Mars' first escape. She no longer had enough fingers and toes to count the times that she had been held somebody or other's prisoner. Yet here she was, fleeing through the woods, so clearly she had yet to find a captor that could hold her forever. She remembered her first escape like she had been just a child yesterday, and the terror that had flooded her chest and propelled her feet at the thought of being caught. Now nothing but indignant anger and determination kept her going as she charged out of the woods and down to the dirty beachfront where Iron Island met the sea.

Mars dove in without hesitation. The cold took her breath away for a moment, her hair clinging to her face and neck as she broke the surface again. She could see the mainland blatantly before her, and was confident that she could swim to its shores within the half hour, barring any unpleasant tides. How very close her foolish former captors all were to Cyrus, and without him even knowing. It was maddening to her. Surely she would be rewarded handsomely for the information she had now, thanks to her idiot ex-coworker Jupiter.

It had bothered her a great deal, though she would loathe admitting it, that she had been assigned the hit on Jupiter. It wasn't that she cared for the other woman particularly. No, in fact, she was not able to think of a single coworker of hers that she was very fond of. But she and Jupiter had vied for years for the same positions and cases, and for some reason it had always struck a rather personal note whenever Jupiter received something over her. Perhaps because very rarely did anyone receive anything over Mars – or dare to request anything that the hotheaded administrator had already decided should be hers. Jupiter never flinched to stand in her way, or against her, or beside her. In this rivalry, Jupiter was the cool and collected intellect, and Mars the volatile underdog with a bite to match her bark.

There is a sort of kinship in rivalry. Not always deep, not always meaningful, but something there. Perhaps a mutual respect was the best way to simply put it. How did one end it?

Mars couldn't, not yet - not without understanding fully why Jupiter had abandoned her coveted position within Galactic and abruptly been branded dead meat by their leader.

Her bones ached from the chilly waters and she chose to ignore thoughts of what might lurk beneath the murky waves. Mars knew of truly horrible ways to die by pokemon, some more twisted than anything a human could inflict. She had nearly fallen victim to more than one method in her lifetime.

_No, no. I am not thinking about any of that, not while I'm swimming in this sea._

But in telling herself not to think about it she had begun to think about it, and now it was making her paranoid. She called out her golbat and had him wrap either clawed foot around her upper arms, carrying her higher above the waves. The wind above was mind-numbingly cold against her soaked frame, even with her uniform. How truly awful northern Sinnoh was.

By the time she reached the shore, she was blue in the lips and shaking so violently she was surprised Golbat had been able to hold on. But one did not simply drop Mars when instructed to carry her – even the most daft of Galactic pokemon could follow an order if given by the unforgiving administrator. Golbat were not first choice when it came to carrying people in flight, as they were fragile pokemon without much of a carrying capacity, but hers was large and it had gotten the job done well enough. She didn't bother herself with worrying about its condition and recalled it in favor of her weighty purugly. The feline was a personal favorite, if she had to pick one at all. From the way the creature trotted ungainly to a nearby trunk and purred contentedly when Mars stripped of her uniform and curled up within the wrap of the thick-furred pokemon, she was not opposed to Mars either.

"Guard," Mars commanded as she closed her eyes. The swim had her exhausted, and Purugly's pelt was incredibly warm. If the damn thing wasn't so unwaveringly obedient, she might have considered skinning it and getting straight to the point. As the weather picked up in intensity, she was glad to be somewhere as toasty as the purugly provided.

_A new field uniform,_ she thought lazily, _lined with purugly pelt. Yes…that will do for my reward._

* * *

Gary could have screamed.

How was it that in hours of nonstop searching, they had found not one trace of Administrator Mars on the entire island? They had covered the land, the air – what the hell had they missed?

"She's long gone by now," Jupiter growled bitterly from behind him. She was shivering in the falling snow, arms wrapped around her middle tightly. He was suffering just as badly, but both were trying to conceal it.

"Well, then we're all screwed, aren't we?" He cried in frustration. "She's got the upper hand now."

Jupiter didn't bother to answer, which only confirmed his exclamation. With great disappointment and anger, the two wordlessly agreed to head back to the cabins. Nothing was spoken, lest either admit their defeat. Upon their arrival they found the majority of their comrades huddled around in a clustered group. Clearly, their focus was on something of great importance, and Gary crossed his fingers as they approached that someone had managed to find and apprehend Mars.

"Ash," Gary called as they closed in. The other trainer turned away from whatever had them all captivated and wore a grave expression. He felt his hopes dash – that was not the face of someone who was looking at a subdued criminal. "What's the deal here?"

"I think you should come see for yourself," he replied grimly. Gary stepped closer, sidling up right beside Ash and took in the sight before them.

"Shit," he cursed quietly. In the snow, wrapped in a blanket, lay one of the Petalburg volunteers. Beside the nameless man lay a female body, similarly wrapped. This face he recognized – during he and Misty's time in Hoenn, he had gone to lunch with this woman. He couldn't remember her name, though he was certain that he had once heard it leave her lips, now eerily white. He felt sick.

"I need to talk to you for a minute," Ash beckoned, gently tugging on his elbow. He allowed himself to be led out of earshot of the group. There, the other man procured a bag from his jacket. "They had pokemon."

Twelve little machines lay piled on top of one another within the bag. Gary blinked.

"Six each?"

"Six each," Ash echoed. They both stared into the bag even still. This was when, as leaders, they were supposed to decide what to do. But neither offered any suggestions. Then, Ash added more. "May said that she didn't let anyone come who didn't have a full team."

He looked up. "Where is May, anyway?"

"She's in her cabin," Ash answered. The conversation was being held in hushed tones, but neither party was doing so intentionally. "She's…she's upset."

It occurred to him that May had grown up in Petalburg City. She probably not only knew these unknown victims' names, but their families, their houses, their jobs. Without meaning to, he pictured Ash with closed eyes and lifeless skin, wrapped in the snow.

Ash flinched a little with surprise when Gary reached out and pulled a leaf from his hat.

"Sorry," he explained absentmindedly. "You had something on your hat."

"Oh," the other spoke faintly. Their eyes were all over one another's faces, but any time they met Ash quickly looked elsewhere. "Thanks."

"So," he stuffed his hands into his pockets to keep them contained. "I guess we decide what happens to the pokemon."

"I guess we do," Ash closed the bag. "Do we hand them out?"

"I don't see why not," he shrugged, but it was halfhearted. The choice in their hands felt inappropriate.

_What if I died? Would I want somebody who couldn't even remember my name deciding what happened to Umbreon?_

"Do they have any family here?" Gary asked. "Any friends?"

"No family," Ash shook his head. "A couple friends, but they all said that they don't want any responsibility for the pokemon."

"Right," Gary sighed.

_Of course not. Why bother, when we're here to make all the choices for them? Then no matter what happens, they're not to blame._

"Some friends," Ash muttered, and then carried on. "All the Petalburg volunteers have a full team, so none of them need any more pokemon."

"Right," he said again. "So who here has the least pokemon?"

Ash looked towards the sky, thinking. For a moment the man's expression carried away the seriousness of their situation. If Gary didn't have his dignity, he might have used the word 'cute' to describe it.

_No, I don't think he looks fucking_ cute_. Gary Oak doesn't think people look cute._

Though the way snowflakes were falling onto his nose was certainly something, if not cute. At any rate it was making him wish that they were not out in the cold snowfall and instead perhaps back in that cabin, still unaware of the incidents unfolding outside. Then he could deal with Ash Ketchum instead of this calamity, which for once was seeming like a much, _much_ more appealing option.

Then the man continued and the morbidity of the situation was revived.

"Well, Misty has none. Neither do Salvador or the professor."

"Brock only has that nidoking," Gary added. "Forrest has a weepinbell, but who knows if it's even trained enough to count. Brenda has her heracross, and it _definitely_ doesn't count."

"Jessie and James don't have any, and they found the guy out there."

"Don't they have that persian?" Gary questioned. He could have sworn he had seen some feline slinking around camp with them before.

"He…he doesn't fight," Ash fumbled a bit, making Gary curious. But given the circumstances, he did not push for details. "It's hard to explain."

"Okay. So those people need pokemon the most."

"And you."

"Oh," he blinked, unsure how he had forgotten to include himself. "Yeah, me."

"So we have twelve pokemon, and that's…"

"Nine people," Gary finished. "We're going to have to give three people two pokemon. The others will have to deal with it."

"I think it's obvious who," Ash crossed his arms.

"Who, then?"

"You, Brock and Misty," he stated. "I'm sure it could upset somebody, but you're the ones I trust most. Well, and the professor, but I don't think he's going to mind if you get a pokemon over him."

Gary certainly didn't see any problems with that.

"I'll just take my two now, then," he said, but when he extended his hand to the bag it was with hesitation.

"I can go tell the others what we've decided."

"No," he disagreed. Ash looked at him with confusion. He eyed the pokeballs in his hand nervously, and though he couldn't explain why he felt antsy about them. "I mean, you can if you want. But you should come with me instead to open the pokeballs."

Ash nodded without any questions, which made him feel slightly better.

"You sure it's a good idea for us to head into the woods?" Ash asked with an attempt at a smile, heading in the direction with him anyway. "Mars could be anywhere."

"Us two?" Gary managed a snort. "She wouldn't stand a chance."

"But you don't have Umbreon with you."

"I used to be the_ Champion,_ Ashy-boy," he smirked. "Don't tell me you think I'm a sitting ducklett without Umbreon to protect me."

Gary kept walking until Ash finally stopped. He watched him expectantly and in a second, Gary swallowed the unpleasant feelings he had and tossed one of the pokeballs, from which emerged a heavyset beast covered in tan hair. When his huge arms moved, balancing on knuckles, muscles rippled even beneath layers of fat. He grunted and looked around lazily before pulling down a nearby branch to chew on.

"A slaking," Ash observed. "Not bad at all."

The beast didn't seem to connect the unknown trainers in front of him to any bad news, and continued to browse. Gary recalled him before he might.

They did not get so lucky with the second pokemon.

From the moment that the next ball revealed a girafarig, things went rapidly downhill. The gold and brown creature looked around, snorted curiously, and then spotted the two men in front of her. With a stamp of her hoof, she seemed to demand answers to a question that neither of them could understand, but could guess. When her trainer did not appear, she exhaled loudly and swung her head, kicking out with her hind hooves.

"Easy –" Gary attempted, but as he took a step toward her the dual-type pokemon dashed several yards away. Not eager to scare her farther, he stopped, holding up his palms unthreateningly. He was now glad that Umbreon was back at the cabins, because he could not imagine that seeing her would have helped calm this girafarig down at all.

"Ow!" Ash cried out suddenly, and with a start Gary realized what he was referring to when several stones rocketed into his sides.

"What the hell!" He shouted, his tone driving the girafarig a few leaps farther away. Meanwhile, she was levitating stones and hurling them in the direction of her new trainer. Irritated beyond belief, Gary threw the pokeball at the uncooperative pokemon as hard as he could manage, where it bounced off her hip eliciting an angry cry before it absorbed her back into its hold.

"You probably shouldn't have thrown it so hard," Ash pointed out as Gary jogged to retrieve the machine.

"Yeah, yeah," he grumbled. "Maybe if the thing didn't hurl rocks at us, I wouldn't have."

He knew very well that the pokemon was only confused and wary, and that he couldn't expect her to react any other way, especially with the intelligence that psychic-types were known to possess. But everyone was on edge today, and he didn't feel like giving the girafarig special treatment even if she did deserve some understanding.

"I'll work it out later," he decided irritably, pocketing both pokeballs. "I don't have time to deal with a bratty pokemon right now."

Ash didn't argue. The two began to venture back towards camp.

"What happened to those two volunteers anyway?" Gary asked, curiosity getting the better of them. "How did Mars get to them?"

"The woman was found in Mars' cabin," Ash began. "I'm not really sure how it happened, but the door was open and she was just…on the floor. There was a food tray scattered, so I'm thinking that somehow she got stuck with delivering Mars' food."

"That's ridiculous," Gary interjected. "Only Jupiter took Mars any food. It was a rule she implemented herself for everyone else's safety."

"I'm not saying Jupiter asked her to do it," Ash corrected, "I don't think she would have wanted that. But maybe she was supposed to take Jupiter the tray and couldn't find her, or was in a hurry and thought she could handle it herself. Whatever the case, that's how she escaped in the first place."

Gary scowled. The knowledge that Mars could still be contained, if not for human negligence, irritated him highly.

"The guy was found in the woods by Jessie and James, like I said," he carried on. "He must not have listened when we told the volunteers to take shelter in May's cabin. He probably thought he could handle bringing down Mars himself. They found him with a pokeball in his hand."

"Stupid," he growled lowly, "just stupid. Why would you wander out into the woods and try to take on something that you have no idea if you can handle?"

"That's what being a trainer is all about," Ash shrugged. "We've just been luckier than others."

Perhaps they had. Perhaps it had nothing to do with skill or background, and time and time again the two of them had just gotten lucky. But Gary wasn't sure he believed that. Surely skill had much more to do with it than that.

"We've been resourceful," he countered. "We've trained hard and used our heads. That counts for more than luck."

Ash nodded in agreement, and the pair locked eyes for a moment. Across the sea, their escapee had reached her destination.


	36. Administrator Mars

**Disclaimer: I don't own Pokemon.**

* * *

Walking long distances in damp clothing was most unpleasant in any type of circumstance, never mind biting wind and snow.

"I hate this goddamn region," Administrator Mars spat as she whipped her soiled uniform across the room, where it splattered into the arms of a pale-faced grunt. "If only the Saffron base hadn't been blown to pieces. I want more Kanto work. It's no paradise, but it will do. I know – I'll suggest a plan of attack on Hoenn. I _do_ want Hoenn. Always so damn warm – though they do have the most irritating accents there."

Mars carried on entirely to herself as she undressed in the gray-tiled locker room. Could she have walked on through the Galactic building and made her way to her own, private dressing room? Yes, of course. But that was far and she had done quite enough walking already, in her own opinion. She was also completely entitled to using the grunt locker room if she so choose – not that anyone was going to question her decision.

_Speaking of grunts…_

She noticed with bubbling annoyance that all of the grunts in the metallic room were watching her. She was certainly in no mood for this.

"You there," she targeted one unlucky woman with a pointed finger. She had a long nose and hip bones that poked through her skin - this annoyed Mars also. "What are you staring at?"

"N-nothing, Administrator," she replied, diverting her eyes. Mars still had her fresh, dry uniform gripped in one hand, leaving her in nothing but undergarments, the neutral, unflattering ones that uniform required.

The targeted grunt was one of three women occupying her space – well, the locker room was technically grunt space, but as she had entered it, it was now_ her_ space. The remaining witnesses had wisely turned to face any other direction.

"You're still looking," she growled, and before the grunt could stammer out a reply she changed her tone to sickeningly sweet. "What is it? Do you like what you see?"

She held her arms out and cocked one hip in a mocking pose. At this point the spare grunts quickly exited the room. This was an intelligent choice, as the grunt in question was now faced with a horrifying dilemma. She had two options – to call her administrator ugly or attractive, neither of which were a wise thing to imply. If there was anything as bad as insulting an administrator, it was making a pass at one.

"Well?" She beckoned with a coy smile that did not fool the grunt. Oh, how that expression was turning Mars' day around. She looked like she might faint. "Don't be shy, sweetheart."

The redheaded woman giggled. As an administrator, one was essentially without rules. You only had to avoid stepping on the toes of other administrators – if you didn't feel like dealing with the trouble, which had never deterred Mars much – and to behave yourself in the presence of Leader Cyrus. That left an entire organization of grunts to be used however you so desired. This was something that was certainly running through the poor grunt's mind, but unbeknownst to her, these worries were unfounded. Not only did Mars prefer men, but she also despised all grunts equally. She could not imagine them being good for anything more than punching bags. With three quick steps, she closed the distance between herself and the grunt and struck the other woman to the tiled floor.

"Keep your eyes to yourself," she hissed, and when the woman parted her split lips to speak Mars struck again, driving her foot into her ribs. "Your thoughts, too, while you're at it."

She dressed herself and carried on towards Cyrus' office. This part did make her a tad nervous. Just a tad. She would not allow herself to panic, though, as there was no reason for that. She was here against all odds, and bearing wonderfully useful news. Cyrus could be nothing but pleased with her.

When she arrived, she opened the door without knocking to build her own conviction. Everything was in its normal place, and yet there was no sign of her leader.

"Leader Cyrus?" She called out. She knew that his personal quarters were rumored to be connected through the back of his office, but to venture there was prohibited. "Leader –"

"Annie," the voice coolly interjected. As Mars had suspected, Cyrus emerged from the back of the room, where the dim lights did not reach. "I am glad to see that you are well. How pleasant of you to return to me."

In the faint glow she could see a smile on his angular face. It looked forced, as all his smiles did.

"Of course, sir," she replied curtly, standing at attention.

"Do explain to me where it is that you have been," he did not lower himself into his chair, but came around the desk to stand directly across from her. "Given the time that you disappeared, I believe it is safe to suspect foul play."

"It is, sir," she began. "I was being held against my will by the Kanto rebels and their Hoenn help, as well as ex-administrator Jupiter."

"I assume your top grunt was found there as well?"

Her blood boiled to be reminded of that. She nodded.

"Nelson held such promise, sir," she explained. "He was extremely skilled, and showed ability beyond –"

Cyrus held up his hand to stop her.

"No need, Annie," he interrupted calmly. "It is a shame, but no one could have predicted his change in allegiances. It is merely a case of emotions clouding judgment. He could have made a fine administrator one day, if only he could have set them aside."

She nodded again. Still, the failure made her angry. It was unacceptable for her to promote a grunt and for him to disappoint her so gravely. If she ever saw Nelson again, she would have his head.

"Problems of this sort have plagued us recently," he carried on with a sigh. "Emotion being allowed in the way of our work. You know that I have always favored you, don't you, Annie?"

Mars blinked. She was unsure if that were a trick question, and whether or not she was supposed to answer it.

"Don't answer," he decided, and then beckoned with a hand that she follow him. "It is professional of you."

He led her towards the back of the office, where was normally off limits. Unease grew in her chest as they continued through a door and down a corridor, Cyrus' frame slowly melting into the blackness around them. The longer they walked in the unlit hall, hearing only footsteps and breathing, the more wary she became. She did not enjoy being in dark or enclosed spaces, and only the fact that it was Cyrus accompanying her kept her from turning back.

"Leader Cyrus," she broke the silence, "where is it that you are taking me?"

"Patience, Annie," was his only reply. With anyone else she would have demanded answers. With anyone else, she would not have followed them down an unlit hallway. Had she been feeling less apprehensive, she would have had room in her mind enough for frustration at his lack of clarity.

Then, they came to a door.

"Your personal quarters," she speculated aloud, but as she still could not see, she could not be certain until the door was opened.

"No," Cyrus corrected as he stepped to the side, allowing her to enter first. Her hand closed around the knob and turned it, and for a moment the artificial light within blinded her. "Those are far more difficult to find."

Suddenly her forehead struck the wall behind her. The sound of her skull connecting resonated in her ears, and blood spurted from one nostril. She was still in a daze when she was lifted from the ground. When had she reached the ground?

"Poor Annie," a voice cooed. She tried to reach up, but found that her hands and feet were bound. She must have blacked out, but when? What was happening? Someone was carrying her now.

_How – When -?_

"You look very much like when I first met you."

"C-C-Cy-" words simply would not cooperate with her. Her head pounded like it never had before. Everything was moving very fast, but she felt trapped within a vortex of slowed time. She could not keep up with the speed at which things were happening around her.

"I am very lucky that this worked," she put the voice above her to a face finally, and with a start she realized this was Cyrus. The voice which should have soothed her filled her with panic, as she could no longer assume that she was under attack from an unknown source. "You might have had me otherwise."

She dropped against a hard, flat surface with a whimper.

"I even carried you myself," something strapped across her shoulders, her chest, her thighs. One either side of her head, barriers closed in until she could not turn it. "I could have had this machamp carry you, you know. I did tell you that I have always favored you."

"D-don't k-kill me," she struggled to regain use of her voice. Jupiter's warnings ran through her mind hectically. Paranoia had long been surpassed by outright terror, and she struggled against the restraints as the feeling grew. "I d-don't know, she d-didn't t-tell anything –"

_"You fucking bitch! Let me out of here or I'll strangle you to death!"_

_"That's precisely why I won't let you out of there, Mars."_

_"Tell me what the hell you're doing out here, working with these idiots! You were an administrator, Jupiter- don't tell me that you want that all thrown away?"_

_"I can't answer your questions, Mars."_

_"Why does Cyrus want you dead? Why is there a hit on you?!"_

_"I can't tell you that, for your sake."_

"Hush," Cyrus' gentle command brought her out of her reverie, and she was unable to fight against the gag he stuffed past her lips. "I'm not going to kill you, Annie."

Tears began to leak from her eyes, born of fear. She did not believe a word of what he was saying to her. Of course Cyrus was going to kill her. It was all unfolding just as Jupiter had warned her that it would. He would not take her back, not now that she had been in the company of a traitor, willingly or not. She was so sickened at the twisted unjust of it all that she did not feel the slightest bit of shame over the tears freely spilling down her cheeks before her leader. Her every instinct screamed, and she required so much more air than the gag would allow. She was going to have a panic attack, perhaps the worst in her history, if something did not give.

"I'm going to help you."

She was screaming, muffled by the gag, as hard as she could until it felt that her throat was shredding inside. She thrashed against the straps and cuffs and bindings that held her, and tears squeezed down from the corners of her eyes and dragged down her face.

"Open your eyes, Annie."

She was no longer coherent enough to realize that her eyes had been tightly closed since she had first hit the wall. She was no longer there – she was one thousand places that she had already been, she was one thousand ages across a lifetime that she had already lived. In the past, she had escaped. But that day, in that moment, she would not escape. Whatever horrors were meant to find her there, would.

She felt_ it_ touch the skin of her forehead, which was drenched with sweat. Annie Mars felt fear for the last time.

* * *

"Come on, Gary! Train with us!"

Gary Oak sighed, pushing the bangs out of his face and stroking the sleeping umbreon beside him with one hand. He didn't get how Ash was managing to remain positive, at least on the surface, as Mars ran freely. The unknown was bothering him immensely. The murderous woman could be anywhere, and as far as he was concerned she was capable of anything.

"Gary," the other man had jogged over to where he was sitting on a cabin porch. Misty, Brock, and others were testing out their new teams a few yards away. His two new additions, the slaking and girafarig, were tucked away in his jacket pocket. "Come on, it'll take your mind off of things. Plus, Slaking and Girafarig can't get rusty right now."

As he glanced up into the other trainer's freckled face, he thought to himself that the last thing he wanted to do at that moment was train his girafarig. The psychic-type had been ornery every time he had released her in the past few days, and he was starting to think that she might never warm up to anyone again after her trainer's passing.

_Maybe she'll just jump ship to Ash or Misty,_ he thought bitterly, _after all, that nidoking started off mine and now he basically trains Brock._

He had so far returned the favor, ignoring the unpleasant pokemon and turning to the slaking instead, which had actually turned out to be an agreeable addition to his small team. The primate was perhaps not the brightest pokemon he had ever owned, but at least he didn't threaten him with stones.

"You have no idea how badly I do not want to deal with that girafarig," he grumbled. Ash frowned sympathetically.

"I know. But she's just being loyal to her old trainer. She'll come around eventually if you just keep trying."

_I don't feel like trying,_ he whined mentally, but sighed and got to his feet. _I feel like finding Mars and giving us all some damn peace of mind._

"Fine," he agreed reluctantly, to appease Ash's insisting more than anything else. The other man beamed.

"Good," he snagged him quickly by the hand, causing Gary to jolt. But the other seemed unconcerned about those around them as he dragged Gary over to the battlefields. "Misty's been talking shit all morning. Somebody has to knock her off of her pedestal."

"That's just because she got Brock to trade her torkoal for his seadra that she's so happy about," he snorted. "As long as she doesn't have another random bug-type to nearly kill herself with."

"I thought that whole thing was your fault?"

"…I don't want to talk about it."

Then Ash paused so abruptly mid-stride that Gary bumped right into him from behind. For a moment he worried that he was about to be scolded for the past ordeal.

"Listen, everyone laughs about it now, she's fine, everything –"

"Sh!" Ash silenced him, much to his confusion. He was perfectly still. Gary noticed then that in the near distance, the battles had ceased. At Ash's ankles, Pikachu had raised onto his hind legs.

"Did you hear that?"

As Gary opened his mouth to say no, the sound came again. This time he did hear it – a distant call that resonated through his ears with alarming clarity. Everyone present had paused what they were doing and faced towards the sky.

"Hey, guys?" Brock called cautiously. His new linoone was still awaiting commands against Misty's other pokemon, an absol. "Was that a roar?"

The sound came again, only this time it was directly before them, and the source emerged from over the trees. A giant leathery wing, and then a second, each twice the size of Ash's Charizard's. A blue dragon-like head followed below, snaking out from a thick, scaly neck. Then came the massive body, which rolled over the tops of the trees. Onlookers began to scream.

"A salamence?" Gary tore his eyes away from the frightening sight to find May standing on a nearby porch, red and puffy eyes wide. "I thought they were impossible to find –"

A roar drowned out her voice and Gary turned back to find himself nearly run over by a bastiodon charging through the field. On its back road a Galactic grunt, and the pair were not alone. Dozens of the dual rock-and-steel types charged out of the woods and straight for them. It was a fully-fledged invasion.

"We're under attack!" He cried.

"Do you see that?" Ash yelled over the growing panic and sounds of battle. At his side, Pikachu charged, sparking at the cheeks. "It's Mars!"

Gary's eyes followed the other man's finger to where it pointed. Indeed, atop the salamence's head, the administrator was saddled. Gary cursed and threw out his slaking, where it charged towards an oncoming bastiodon to meet it in tow. He had known it was only a matter of time before Mars resurfaced, and somehow he felt no more prepared. Umbreon sped past his side, having raced from her napping post, ready for battle. Yet, he was reluctant to call out his last pokemon.

_Alright, Girafarig,_ he thought to himself,_ I don't have time to pamper you, and maybe a bastiodon aiming right at you will make you see that._

The ornery creature emerged with an indignant snort, but as he had hoped when a bastiodon a few yards away began to lumber toward her, she hopped lightly into the air as if to ready herself for action.

"You see those things?" Gary shouted, unsure if it giving the pokemon orders would even be effective. "Aim for them!"

Gary scowled as he shot a quick glance into the sky, scanning for Mars on the back of the giant salamence as it cast a huge shadow over the battlefield. Above him, a crobat beat its wings frantically toward the behemoth, a woman on its back.

* * *

Jupiter kept her eyes squinted as the wind buffeted her and her crobat. The pair came up along the backside of the airborne salamence and approached swiftly, avoiding the swaying tail and flapping wings.

"Mars!" Jupiter yelled down over the sounds of roars and wind. "Mars!"

The redhead largely ignored her, sparing her nothing but an upward glance from her place on the dragon's head, a motion that was barely visible in the snow beginning to pick up around them. With a kick to the crobat's side, Jupiter turned the flying creature just so, and slid from its back until she dropped into the air and landed less than steadily onto the salamence's spine. The move took a fraction of a second, but her heart had still skipped several beats when she had free fallen onto the monster at such heights.

_"Mars!_" She called again, this time more angrily. Shakily she got her footing and scrambled to the base of the pokemon's neck, stumbling each time it moved too suddenly. "Look at me! I know that you hear me, Mars!"

She was demanding so loudly that her throat stung. The woman finally looked over her shoulder, then down at her old coworker. She did not speak, but turned around completely, legs crossed neatly like she were sitting in an office chair as opposed to the head of a dragon at the great heights which she was.

"What is it, Jupiter?" She called down calmly. She had to raise her voice to be heard over the calamity, but her tone remained nonchalant. "Shall I come down so that we can talk? Is that what you want?"

The offer, combined with the mention of what someone other than Administrator Mars might want, startled Jupiter. Mars never offered to talk so civilly, nor did she speak in such a monotone voice. There was no hint of sarcasm or annoyance, and it left the sentence feeling empty. Jupiter didn't know how to reply. Luckily, Mars seemed to have a plan in mind already. She began to climb down the scales along the reptile's neck, leaving the beast to its own control. This might have struck Jupiter as terrifyingly unsafe, if she were not so puzzled and nerve wracked by the administrator's behavior.

She wasn't sure how to react, other than to take a few steps back to give the other woman space to stand. She had been prepared to crawl up to Mars' perch and drag her down by her hair if she had been made to – and she had been expecting to be made to. But here she was, having come down rather tamely, and she was now standing before her waiting for Jupiter to react first.

"What is wrong with you?" She blinked, far more afraid of this stoic version of Mars than she ever had been of the usual and volatile one. The redhead was watching her with stony eyes. Snow and wind blistered through her short hair, but that seemed to be the only part of her that recognized the disagreeable conditions they stood in as the salamence circled the battlefield from the air.

"Nothing," she said simply. There was no added giggle, no condescending remark. "Everything."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Jupiter demanded. "Why aren't – why are you so –"

Jupiter hardly ever, in all her years, had found herself scrambling for words. Words were tools that she understood, that she could wield like knives. Yet it took the woman across from her to fill in the blanks.

"Why am I not angry?" She offered smoothly. "Why am I not furious with you? Why am I not reducing you to petty insults and cursing you for trying to keep me as your prisoner?"

Jupiter nodded faintly. Her eyes were wide.

"Don't go back to Cyrus," she replied without much clarity, "and you'll never have to know."

Jupiter drew her pistol rapidly and wielded it at her. Mars, who before had shot and killed one of her own grunts when he had taken a shot that _might_ have come close to hitting her, did not react in the slightest.

"This is your gun, Mars," Jupiter instigated shakily. "_Yours._ I stole it from you when I abducted you at headquarters. Don't you remember?"

"There's no use in trying to entice my temper," she reached for her own weapon without flair. "I don't have it anymore."

"What the hell do you mean?" Jupiter shouted, growing more fearful. "What the hell did Cyrus do to you?!"

"I'll tell you a little secret," Mars ignored her and carried on. Jupiter wished wholeheartedly that there had been some mocking inflection in her voice, but found none. The false sweetness that she had once flaunted so frequently was without question gone. "You were right."

_I am never right. No one is _ever_ right unless they agree with you._

But her racing mind did not change the situation unfolding before her.

"Going back to Cyrus was the worst mistake I could have made," she carried on. Jupiter flinched when she began to raise her gun, but she did not feel compelled to bolt. Besides, where could she go? The two were on the back of the salamence, and a fall from this height would surely kill her. "I was better off locked away in that cabin you had me in. But I never would have seen that before – it's amazing how clear the world becomes without pesky feelings like fear and anger."

Jupiter had her finger on the trigger, but she was reluctant to pull it. She feared that this new Mars could see that plainly.

"You could take my job now," she managed a sentence. The other woman's eyes were bearing right into hers. She felt small and fragile, and she wondered for a fraction of a second if this was what it had been like for a Galactic prisoner looking into the eyes of Administrator Jupiter. "Like you always wanted. The way you're acting now."

"Oh, this is no act. I could take many things from many people now. It is likely that I will, now that Leader Cyrus has completed the Red Chain," Mars sighed as if she were bored. Jupiter's breath caught in her throat as what the woman had just told her sunk in. "I don't want to kill you, Jupiter."

Jupiter's relief, visible in the sag of her shoulders, only lasted a second.

"But I don't particularly want to keep you alive, either."

Jupiter and Mars fired their guns at the same instant, just as Ash Ketchum's charizard came crashing into the salamence double his size. Mars' bullet swept through the blizzard now in full swing around them and drove itself into Jupiter's abdomen. Only the bulletproof material built into the chest and gut of her uniform kept it from burying itself into her flesh. Still she cried out as she tumbled across scales and doubled over. Jupiter's shot went whizzing past Mars, nicked the neck of the salamence, and ricocheted back into Mars' calf. The shorter woman screamed in a way that made her sound human and familiar to Jupiter, but no string of curses followed, no round of frantic and blind firing. Then the immense dragon rolled in the air to shake the fire-type and Jupiter found herself plummeting blindly through the air. Her gun long gone, she thrashed her arms and prepared for the inevitable end when she met the ground below.

"Grab her!"

Then a huge clawed forearm collided with her middle. The wind knocked out of her instantly, she struggled to hang on as she gasped for oxygen. Quicker than she could have anticipated, her rescuer hit the ground, and she was placed with surprising care into wet grass. Around her, the snow was rapidly melting, heat dissipating from Charizard standing over her.

"Are you alright?" Ketchum was kneeling at her side. With a nod, she sucked in a gulp of much needed air that filled her chest.

"M-Mars," she tried to right herself and pulled at his collar, but he held out his hands to stop her. "The Galactic troops –"

"Retreating," Ketchum reassured her. "Looks like whatever stunt you pulled up there with Mars worked."

She laid her head back down and panted.

"Everyone!" Ketchum was delegating orders. "Inside! If you're not in a cabin with myself, Gary, Misty or Brock, you should be!"

She propped herself onto her elbows to ready herself to stand, but a pair of arms swept down on her and scooped her into a hold.

"Put me down, Oak," she commanded, but he did not oblige her. "I am perfectly capable of walking."

"Yeah, sure," the man mumbled. His head turned over his shoulder to allow him to spit blood into the grass. "But I don't have time in this damn weather to babysit you while you hobble through the snow."

"Where's Oak?" She tried to squirm from his grasp.

"Right here, settle down," the man announced irritably as they trekked toward the cabin. "Have you lost it or what?"

"Your grandfather," she clarified, gripping her chest as she talked. "Cyrus is done with it. He's done with the Red Chain."


	37. The God of Time

**Disclaimer: I do not own Pokemon.**

* * *

Ash tapped the floor with his heel rhythmically. It was driving Gary insane, he could tell, but it was helping him to focus and think.

Injuries from the ambush were all miraculously superficial. There were enough cuts and bruises to go around the entire group three times, but the fact that everyone was alive was enough to appease Ash. Jupiter had serious abdominal bruising that made him wonder if she had broken a few ribs between the gunshot and Charizard catching her less than gracefully, but she was adamant that she had not. Gary had agitated an old ankle injury and was limping around, but he too would be alright with rest.

"So what does that mean?" Misty spoke up first. Professor Oak and Jupiter had just finished pitching the discovery that Team Galactic had completed the Red Chain. It was understood that this meant nothing but bad things for them, but less understood exactly how. "What does he do with it, now that it's done?"

"The wearer of the Chain summons Palkia and Dialga, and they are bound to the wearer's control," the professor explained bleakly. Those listening – himself, Gary, Misty and Brock – reacted individually, some with faces of worry, others with skepticism.

"So say the legends," Gary countered. "But that's all they are. What if this whole thing is just a story?"

"Well, the lake trio turned out to be very real," Brock speculated. "Why wouldn't we treat this legend the same way?"

"It would be wise to get a head start on Cyrus," Jupiter warned. "We need to intersect his path, before he reaches where he plans to go."

"But how could we ever know what he's planning?" Misty inquired. The elder Oak looked about to answer when the door to the cabin flew open, allowing in a howl of wind.

"Quit trying to have these super important meetings without me!" May Maple burst inside. The annoyed brunette plopped down onto one of the bottom bunks beside Ash and smacked his shoulder. "This is how you thank me for all the help I've given you?"

"Hey, princess," Gary cut in, "how about not interrupting with your squealing?"

"Shove it, Gary!"

_"Children,"_ Jupiter growled without amusement, crossing her arms.

"Guys, stop," Brock interjected. This seemed to work well enough, as the two ended the exchange with playful glares. There was nothing genuinely malicious about Gary's remark, and though perhaps not all present realized this, Ash Ketchum certainly did. May had been noticeably upset about the untimely deaths of two of her volunteers for days, and harmless jeering was Gary's way of trying to put things back to normal.

_Lucky for him, May's just as big of a pain._

The woman hardly seemed offended.

"The files I was given during my time with Galactic did tell me where the legend is supposed to climax," the professor continued at long last. "Mt. Coronet's peak."

Gary and Misty groaned in perfect unison.

"More mountains?" Misty dismayed. Gary had leaned over May to reach where Pikachu was lounging, and mimed pulling the rodent's tail.

"Just fry me already."

"How would we ever get there before him?" Brock asked, ignoring the less mature responses of his comrades.

"We would have to leave immediately," the professor declared. "There is no time to waste."

"We can use Lance's dragons to help with that," Ash suggested. "All the fliers that we have in the group we can pool together."

"Good call," Misty praised. He still felt relief whenever she spoke positively of him.

"So we'll need a list of everyone's fliers," May said. "I'm on it with the volunteers. See, aren't you glad I'm here?"

"What if we don't have enough?" Misty frowned.

"We will," Ash insisted confidently. "Lance has three dragonites, and they can carry a couple people each. I have Charizard, and he can definitely carry two, he's done it before."

"What about the weather?" Brock pointed out. "Charizard won't fare well in the snow for long distances, will he?"

"He can handle it longer than most of his species can," Ash explained. "We trained on Mt. Silver so long that he knows what to expect with it. But no, it's not good for him in long stretches. It'll all depend on the snowfall, and let's hope for good weather because Ritchie has Zippo, and that'd be two more people if we can get the charizards out there."

They mobilized the plan as soon as they could. Several of the bulkier fliers available carried supplies with them as well as people, and safety precautions for the pokemon were implemented. Any snowfall that lasted too long would call for a break for the charizards, as well as any other pokemon that weren't handling it well. Any hail would immediately ground the dragonites.

"Great," Gary complained only in secret, "we have all the fliers we need, but half of them can hardly handle the weather conditions. Should be_ fine,_ right?"

He complained less when Ash would kiss him, and not at all when the other man threatened him with public displays of affection.

"Gross," he would flee, "not on your life, Ashy-boy."

* * *

Gary was certain that the journey not only up, but to Mt. Coronet would be grueling and dangerous, if only because grueling and dangerous seemed to be the common theme in his life now. They had already had a few Petalburg volunteers drop from the plans, and though he resented them for it slightly he could not blame them. He was not any more enthusiastic about climbing more mountains than they were. Truly, he was just grateful that there were not more like them.

The first few days were the least trying. The weather largely agreed with them, allowing for large stretches of travel, since the dragons among them especially were masters of flight stamina – and though it took mental training to allow a person's body to sleep while in flight on some tamed beast, Lance had pushed everyone to sleep in the air as much as possible, preventing excess ground time.

"You're strapped in, and perfectly safe," Lance had instructed, but it had still taken one full sleepless night for Gary to finally succumb to exhaustion on the back of Ash's charizard.

"Hey, Gary."

The whisper woke him from this uneasy slumber. He realized with some embarrassment that he had been leaning up against Ash's back while he had slept as the other man directed Charizard from in front. Quickly though he dismissed the feeling.

_Whatever. It's just Ash._

"What," he replied in an unenthusiastic tone, "I was finally asleep."

"Sorry. I need you awake to keep me awake. I keep dozing off and Charizard might get some ideas if I seem like I'm not up and directing him."

Gary grumbled, but he remembered the last time that he had ridden on the fire-type and how amused the giant reptile had been to turn their peaceful ride into a free-falling wind tunnel. The wind at that particular time was quite calm, allowing Gary to hear his counterpart much better than he usually could. Clouds obscured their view of the other fliers, who were various distances away from them, though certainly out of earshot.

"What are you going to do when this is all over?"

Gary blinked sleepily, still in a frustrated and tired dazed when he answered.

"Rot in my grave," he mumbled, "because I'll have died of exhaustion by then."

"I'm serious."

That prompted him to actually think on the topic. It was not one that had crossed his mind before, surprisingly enough.

"I don't know," he replied, unsettled. He realized that in all of the planning he had put into the freedom of Kanto and Sinnoh, he had not spared a single thought to what he might want to do with it.

_I can't be the only one._

"You haven't thought about it?" Ash asked.

"We've been busy," he dismissed. "I don't have time to wonder what color I'm going to paint my picket fence when this is all over. Besides, who says this'll ever end, anyway? Or that we'll make it out."

"Shut up," the dark-haired man retorted.

"What are you going to do?" He turned it around. "Head back up your mountain and become a hermit again?"

"No," Ash chuckled, shaking his head, "definitely not."

"So you're finally rejoining the real world?"

"I guess, maybe. I haven't really thought about it either until today." Ash pondered aloud. "Maybe I'll travel again."

Would he have to go back to the Viridian City Gym again? His contract certainly said that he would, unless he wanted to hand it over to someone qualified. He wasn't sure how he felt about any of that.

"You'll need a rival," Gary instigated. "Don't think that you're gonna find one that measures up to me, either."

"Of course not," Ash appeased him with an eye roll. "But you won't be much of a threat keeping that gym throne warm."

"Maybe I'll go to Hoenn," Gary mused haughtily. "I'm sick of all this snow and Viridian got dull years ago. But I know you have some redeeming of yourself to do in Kanto. You know, with the whole bringing shame to our hometown thing."

"Hey, hey, I_ faced_ Lance, remember? And I won the match for us."

"So what?" Gary prodded, and then began to literally prod him in the back, taking advantage of the fact that Ash could not turn around and clock him. "Are you saying that you'd go to Hoenn?"

"Are you asking me to go to Hoenn?"

"I'm telling you," Gary countered. "That is, only if you want your ass repeatedly handed to you by your rival again. It'll be just like old times."

"Shut up," Ash laughed dismissively. "Seriously, I don't know what I'll do after – if there's even an after. I just had to make sure that I wasn't the only one."

In the basket that they had fastened securely to Charizard's back behind where Gary sat, Umbreon and Pikachu stirred. Gary looked over his shoulder to find that the pair were merely shifting positions before falling back to sleep.

"Are those two still doing alright?" Ash asked.

"Yeah," Gary snorted. "Cuddling and everything."

Umbreon had wrapped around the little rodent, whose features were entirely obscured by her fur. One ear flopped onto the dark-type's paw and the other forward against her side.

"Really?" Ash inquired. "Pikachu's not much of a cuddler."

"Well, Umbreon sure charmed him into it or something. Nobody can resist such a sweetheart, anyway," Gary grinned smartly, "I wonder where she learned to be so irresistible from?"

"Don't even start," Ash said with playful disgust, "how are we doing on supplies?"

"Badly," Gary reported, peeking into the saddlebags. "We're going to need to make a pit stop before we hit the mountain."

"We might as well do it now, then," Ash shrugged. Charizard swept up through the clouds to reach where Misty rode behind Ritchie on Zippo. With them informed of their temporary departure, they began to descend.

"Where do you think we're near?" Ash called back over the sound of flapping wings.

"How should I know?" Gary replied. "We should have asked Jupiter!"

As the clouds parted they entered what they assumed to be the risky part. How do you land near a town without being seen on such a giant pokemon? That very concern was why they had flown among the clouds to avoid being spotted. But as they continued to descend this became the least of their worries. Both men blinked in shock as they found a small town in the distance billowing with smoke, charred entirely to ash.

"What the hell?" Gary exclaimed, using one hand as a visor.

"We have to check this out," Ash spoke with horrified awe and signaled for Charizard to close in. Gary wasn't entirely sure how he felt about that, but morbid curiosity kept him quiet.

They didn't bother to land outside of town discreetly, as the entire place seemed to be deserted. Gary wasn't sure if the civilians had fled or been killed, but he didn't see any bodies lying in the streets. The small collection of houses grew larger until they landed in the center square. Where there had once been homes there was now only charred framework, and what had been furniture within was now rubble in each one. Gary covered his mouth and nose with his sleeve. The air was thick was dark smoke.

"Hello?" Ash called, and then coughed harshly. Umbreon and Pikachu emerged from their basket with puzzled expressions, the rodent looking disgruntled and wiggling his nose. "Is anyone out here?"

"No, Ash," Gary answered bluntly. His eyes surveyed the grizzly scene. He flinched when he thought he spotted an arm in a pile of debris. "Not anymore."

To his displeasure, Ash climbed down from Charizard's back.

"What are you doing?" Gary demanded. "There isn't anyone or anything left in this place. It was probably Galactic's doing, too, so we'd better get out of here before they show up."

"You don't know that there aren't any survivors," Ash insisted before he jogged down the road ahead of them. Pikachu let out an annoyed cry, which turned into a squeaky cough before he reluctantly pursued his trainer. "We have to be sure!"

Gary sighed irritably and climbed down.

"We don't even know what happened here, Ash," Gary called after him insistently. "And I don't see why we should bother figuring it out when we should be hoping that it doesn't happen to us!"

He began to step down the ruined streets more slowly than Ash, who was rushing from wrecked house to house, calling out in aid. Gary felt bad, really – but this was a waste of time. Clearly no one was left alive, and there was no good to be done by staying. If anything, the best thing that they could do would be to get on with their mission, lest more parts of the nation end up looking the same.

_This doesn't really make sense, though. Why would Galactic destroy a city in a nation that they already control?_

But besides Team Galactic, who could it have been? Gary had no clue, and he chose not to think about it.

"Ash," he groaned tiredly, "come on."

The whole scene was weighing on his mind and his mood. He remembered the day that his grandfather's lab had burned down, and parts of Pallet Town had borne resemblance to this place. Images of his old team flashed through his mind, and how at the town's borders they had been taken from him forever.

"Ash," he continued, stopping so abruptly in sudden frustration that a cloud of soot kicked up around his feet, "can't we just -?"

He halted mid-sentence as a plank of wood out of the corner of his eye moved. He spun to face whatever the source might be, and his jaw nearly dropped from his face.

"Ash," he called out, this time much more loudly. Quickly he lost patience in waiting. _"Ash!"_

Out of the wreckage crawled a small child, tiny hand over tiny hand until she was free. She was so soiled with ashes that he couldn't make out much of her appearance, other than her wide, dark eyes. Tears had dripped paths down her dirty cheeks, but she did not make a sound, even when she spotted him. She unsteadily got to her feet and her small hands gripped the skirt of her dress.

For a moment, Gary was unsure of what to do. Umbreon took this time to come up behind him, cooing in a manner that to him sounded reassuring. But the strange girl seemed to disagree, as when she noticed the dark-type she visibly flinched and began to whimper pitifully. She looked as if every part of her screamed to run, but like she could not. Perhaps she was hurt, or perhaps she was simply too afraid.

"Stay," he ordered his starter, and with caution he approached.

_Where the hell is Ash?!_

"Hey," he spoke soothingly, kneeling down to her level. "There's nothing to be scared of. I'm here to help."

She was still ignoring him, her eyes locked on Umbreon.

"Don't worry about her, okay?" He explained slowly. "She listens to me. What's your name?"

She sniffled, and he assumed that she was not going to answer. Then, she spoke in a barely audible voice.

"Where's my mommy?"

Any answer he might have come up with caught in his throat. He did not know what to say to that. Surely this girl's mother was dead, or long gone, depending on what had happened here. But he couldn't tell her that.

_How do you talk to little girls? Where's Brock when I need him?_

"How old are you?" He asked, choosing to change the topic entirely. She held out a hand, and raised each finger on it one by one.

"Five, huh?" He asked, and she nodded. "You're not gonna tell me your name?"

She shook her head. A few stray tears fell.

"My mom says no talking to strangers."

"I see," he mused. "Well, my name's Gary. This is my umbreon – she won't hurt you, okay? She's nice."

Umbreon padded forward at the sound of her name, but when the girl's hands flew up to cover her face and she began to whimper again, she paused with lowered ears.

"All the pokemon are bad," she sniffed, keeping her eyes behind small fingers.

"No," he protested gently, "most pokemon are good."

It occurred to him that this girl was a Sinnoh native. A native in a nation that had lost its pokemon privileges sixteen years ago. This five year old was part of the first generation of those born under Galactic rule, where pokemon were the things of nightmares instead of dreams.

Just then he heard the sound of Ash jogging up behind him. But when he turned to look he found that the other man was not alone.

"Oh my God," Misty mouthed, but at that moment the girl uncovered her eyes and looked up at the redhead like she had somehow heard. Ritchie was standing behind her, looking nervous. Zippo was nowhere to be seen, and Gary assumed that he was with Ash's charizard and was grateful for it. If the girl couldn't handle Umbreon, he would hate to see her reaction to the giant reptile. In the near distance, Brock and Brenda were jogging over.

"I saw you talking to her," Ash came up to kneel beside him and whispered. "I thought we might need some back up."

"Good call," Gary responded back. Brock was already shouldering the two of them out of the way.

"Hey, little lady," he said without missing a beat. His voice sounded as if he were in a daycare rather than a charred city. "What's your name?"

The girl plopped a dirty thumb into her mouth as a reply and glanced at Gary purposefully.

"Oh," he began, looking up at where Brock stood. "She doesn't talk to strangers, Brock."

"How about we go get a little space over there, huh?" Brenda held out a hand warmly, pointing with the other to a quieter spot down the road. "Sometimes I get a little shy when I'm in crowds, too."

But the girl shook her head.

"My friend's here," she whispered. Then she turned and pointed back into the rubble from which she had come. Everyone stared silently, and there was a mutual horror and reluctance shared by the adults. Nobody wanted to have to crawl around the remains and dig up the body of some kid. There was no way anything in there was alive.

Then, they heard an ear-splitting scream.

"Oh my God," this time Misty spoke audibly before all six adults dove into the wreckage, throwing things aside frantically. There was a moment of hurried searching, but only a moment, before Misty straightened up with another small child gripped to her shirt. The boy now had a vice-like hold on her, legs kicking and still screaming. Gary did not envy the redhead's position.

"M-my head hurts!" The boy wailed. "My h-head h-hurts!"

"Okay, okay," Misty did her best. "Don't cry, okay? Everything's alright. Crying only makes it hurt worse."

"Where's my m-momma?" He sniffled. Unlike the girl, this one began to jabber immediately. "Everything got real loud and – and – and –"

"Sh," Misty hurried before he could break down again, bouncing him slightly in her arms. "I'm Misty, okay? I'm here to help you. Can you tell me your name?"

"B-Barry," he wiped his nose on his hand, and then used it to point to the still silent girl. "Th-that's my friend! Th-that's my friend, Dawn!"

On the other side of town, a crooked sign smoldered. Though if one squinted, on the blackened wood one might still be able to make out the word 'Twinleaf'.

* * *

"What are we going to do with them?"

The question hung in the air. Not one of them knew how to even begin answering it. They had scoured the town, upturning bodies and rubble, but had not found a single other survivor. This left them with a dilemma unlike any other that they had faced – what to do with the two children.

"We can't take them with us," Brock said firmly. "It's dangerous and irresponsible. We know full well the kind of harm's way that we're all going to be in."

"We can't leave them either, though," Misty pointed out. By this time the entire lot of them had grounded in the charred city. Brenda and May were off distracting the boy and girl. While Barry was easy to get responses out of, it was not easy for them to guide the conversation. He wanted to know where his house was, and his family was, and when they would be back. When these questions arose there was very little that any of them could do to get him to talk about something else. Dawn on the other hand was proving to be the polar opposite. She had clammed up and refused to speak to any of them in anything but head motions, and kept her mouth occupied by her thumb for good measure.

"Well, we have two options," Gary crossed his arms. "Take them with us, or leave them. If we can't pick either, then what the hell do we do?"

"If only we could get them to Pewter," Salvador pitched in. "I'm sure Yolanda could handle them."

In Gary's opinion, there was no point in entertaining good ideas if they weren't also feasible ones. But then, a woman spoke up who Gary had nearly forgotten was there at all. Ash was always taking time to fill her in on what had transpired during their meetings and exchanging ideas with her, but really Gary didn't see why they got on so well. To him, Leader Whitney was just another face in the crowd.

"Maybe we can't get them to Kanto," Whitney surmised, "but we can get them to Goldenrod City in Johto."

"How?" Ash asked, clearly intrigued by the suggestion.

"I'll take them on one of our fliers," she explained. "Once we arrive at the base of Mt. Coronet, I'll be off with them. Until then you guys need all the fliers you can get to help carry supplies. But once you land, pokemon like Brock's nidoking can carry whatever I leave behind."

"But you've worked so hard to be here," Ash countered, though Gary didn't see why that mattered. "You deserve to make it to the top of Mt. Coronet with everyone."

Whitney smiled genuinely and shrugged.

"Ash, I've seen you and your team do extraordinary things, and I have no doubt that, whatever happens when you reach Mt. Coronet, it will be nothing less than a victory for anyone against Team Galactic," her smile shrunk slightly. "But these children are not volunteers. They aren't anti-Galactic – they don't have any place in this war. They deserve peace even more than we do. I'll take them with me, and make sure that's what they get."

"Alright," Ash relented. He did not look enthusiastic, but to Gary it sounded like the best option that they could hope for. "If you're sure. Only because I can't let them go with just anybody and I know that I can trust you to keep them safe."

With the matter settled Gary was certain that they were ready to go. However, getting the two children to ride on the backs of pokemon that all equally terrified them proved to be the most challenging part of the entire pit-stop yet. They were only placated by the idea of riding in the basket on Charizard's back, because there they could not see the great heights at which they flew or the pokemon which carried them. From inside the basket, the girl became much more talkative, though she was still often too quiet to make out her words. This proved to be a non-issue, because she would still not address he nor Ash, and only spoke in these hushed tones to her counterpart, Barry, whose replies they could always hear clearly.

This change of plans had evicted Umbreon and Pikachu from their usual seat. The dark-type was all too happy to ride in Gary's lap, even though her size made it inconvenient and awkward. Pikachu on the other hand looked annoyed, and every so often glared at the basket and at Gary.

"What?" He returned. "I didn't do anything."

"I'm really feeling the love, Pikachu," Ash sighed as the electric-type looked so clearly unhappy in his lap.

"Missing Umbreon, little buddy?" Gary said mockingly, petting her forehead which brought forth a loud purr. "Yeah, she is a sweetheart, isn't she?"

Pikachu chittered a rapid reply. Ash laughed.

"That's pikachu for, 'fuck yourself'."

"Hey!" Gary clocked him from behind, though took care not to knock the hat from his head. "There are kids in the back seat!"

"I forgot!" Ash exclaimed, slapping one hand over his mouth. "Also, I never want to hear you say that again."

"Yeah, me either," he mimed gagging. "Though they didn't hear, I'm sure. They're five, how much attention do they pay to adults?"

"I don't know, what did we do when we were five?"

"If they're anything like you were, we're fine," Gary reassured. "You couldn't pay attention to anything for more than two minutes unless it lit up or made noise."

"You're a – jerk," Ash abruptly changed his wording, enticing laughter from Gary. Then, he went silent as he realized that he could actually hear the small girl talking from the basket. Tapping Ash on the shoulder, he conveyed the message to be quiet and the two listened in.

"I don't think we're gonna live at home anymore."

"That's not true," he could hear the boy insist. "Only grown-ups go other places, and that's 'cause they have jobs."

"There weren't any grown-ups anymore."

"That's not true," he repeated. "Our moms and dads are grown-ups and they were always there."

"But they weren't," she carried on. Gary grew more troubled as she continued. "Remember how you found that one slimy fish thing?"

"Yeah," the boy replied, "Momma said it was called a barboach. It could fit in my hand it was so little!"

"Remember you hid it under your bed?"

"She wanted me to get rid of it 'cause it could be a scary pokemon," he confirmed. "but it was too small to be scary."

"Then it got all dried up and didn't move anymore and got smelly," she finished sadly. "I think everything home is like that now."

"Momma said the fishy thing died," Barry could be heard beginning to sniffle. "Does that mean everything home died? My house? And – and –"

Gary shut out the rest of the conversation the best that he could. His eyes closed and he reached around Umbreon to wrap his arms around the middle of the man sitting in front of him, tipping his head forward to lean on his back. Umbreon's ears flattened and she watched him nervously.

"Never mind," he whispered into the trainer's jacket. "I don't want to listen anymore."

A hand slipped into his and squeezed.

"Yeah," Ash swallowed thickly. "Neither do I."

* * *

"I'm f-f-fucking freezing."

Gary's teeth chattered and he clung to Ash's middle as they both shivered. The two men had been forced to shed their jackets for the boy and girl, who had begun to whine of chills. The wind, which they had been able to ignore before, was now too biting against their bare arms to pretend it was not bothering them.

"Are we there yet?" Barry called from the basket, where he and his companion were buried in jackets.

_"No,"_ the two men answered in frustrated unison.

"I'm never having kids," Ash whispered under his breath, "if one good thing came out of Misty and I not working out, it's that, because I'm pretty sure that she wants them one day."

"Something else good came out of that too," Gary added slyly in hushed tones, "you get to sleep with the great and handsome –"

"Shut up," Ash chuckled, but his chattering teeth distorted the sound. "We d-don't need to be talking about sleeping with anyone with those two kids back there."

"Why not?" The blonde boy popped out from the basket. Though he and Dawn were still by no means clean, they had rubbed off on enough clothing and blankets for their appearances to become more distinguished. "Grown-ups are always sleeping together, duh."

Gary couldn't help but burst right out laughing. He gripped Ash's sides harder, certain that if he didn't the combination of fatigue, cold and shaking laughter would send him sliding right off of Charizard's back.

"I like sleeping by myself," Barry carried on. "Dawn is a blanket-stealer."

"Am not!" The little girl piped up through the thumb in her mouth.

"Oh, blanket-stealers are the worst," Gary played along dramatically, "Ash is pretty bad too, though, want to know why?"

"Yeah, yeah! Why?"

"Gary," Ash warned.

"Sometimes when we sleep together, he_ scratches –"_

_"Gary!"_

"Don't tell anybody though, okay? He gets embarrassed. Just look at how red his face is."

The children giggled endlessly at the expense of the other man, Gary right along in time with them, delighted by his own humor. Ahead of them the clouds parted, and for a moment everyone was too distracted to realize what was now clear before them. Then Ash blinked, realizing with a start what they had come upon.

"We're here," he mumbled.

"Where?" Gary looked back ahead. His laughter died out. "Oh."

There was no twinge of excitement in either's voice. It was an unspoken fact that upon reaching Mt. Coronet, fun and games would likely end. They would likely face endless danger unless they could stop Cyrus from whatever he was planning at the mountain's peak, and in truth, Gary wasn't even convinced that they would be able to succeed in that. The natural structure before them towered high into the air, even higher than they currently flew. The place was covered in snow, though luckily for them, the skies looked clear. They fell silent and began to descend towards the mountain's base.

Once there, everyone gathered. Some had begun to set up tents, while others were attempting to start a fire.

"Okay, everybody," Ash spoke up. "We'll camp here until morning. Get as much rest as you can, because this might be the last chance we get at a solid block of sleep for a while. In the morning we'll start moving up the mountain. If it's still clear in the sky, we'll take the fliers to save time."

"Get me a tent," Gary declared as the group began to disperse. He gripped his arms, hugging any spare warmth to his body. "Now."

He spotted May and her nearly finished tent, having continued to assemble hers throughout Ash's short speech. Quickly rushing through the layer of snow, he dove inside just as she finished up. Umbreon dashed after him, darting in and curling up beside him before any objections could be made.

"Hey!" May cried from outside. "I didn't set this up for you!"

"I gave my j-jacket to a five year old," he countered. "I deserve this tent."

Instead of complaining further, the brunette ducked in after him.

"Fine, you can stay – for now," she wagered. "But only if you're going to keep me warm."

He smirked when she winked at him.

"You wish."

Outside, the rest of the tents were going up rapidly. Ash Ketchum spotted the Rocket family ducking into a spare one, and decided this was perhaps the best opportunity that he was going to get to talk to them.

"Hey," he tapped on the tarp from the outside. It was Jessie who unzipped the opening and stuck her head out, but she didn't look particularly inviting.

"What do you need?" She grumbled. "I'm freezing and I'm tired, and I do not need bags under my eyes, got it?"

"I wanted to talk," he carried on, ignoring her abrasive tone. "It'll be quick."

"Oh, fine," she huffed. "Get in here. If you think I'm standing out in that cold for another minute, you're as dense as you look."

He did as he was told. Inside, Nelson and Clyde were tugging a blanket back and forth lazily, trying to come to an agreement on who should have how much. However he blinked a few extra times when he realized that James, who was posted in the corner holding a simple sandwich, had a persian stretched out along his legs.

"Meo –" he shook his head. "Persian?"

The feline cracked one eye open, then yawned, exposing sharp teeth. Ash was unimpressed.

"I haven't seen you out in a while," he carried on, expecting to be answered at any moment. "Don't tell me you're riding in pokeballs nowadays?"

"Times are different now, twerp," Jessie spat in response, looking annoyed. "Quit pestering him and tell me what you want. He's not going to answer you."

"Well, why not?" Ash demanded, puzzled. "I already know he can –"

Clyde and Nelson cut him off with harsh hushes. Then the darker-haired twin continued.

"Listen," he began, "we don't mean to be rude or anything. But you can't exactly go around flaunting that you have a pokemon in Sinnoh, and you especially can't go around flaunting that you have one that can…communicate, like Persian can. You know? So just don't mention it to anybody."

"Alright, alright," he relented, and the family ceased their harsh staring. "I'm only in here to ask you how you want to help, anyway."

"What do you mean?" Clyde interjected. "Whatever way we can."

"Not at all," Jessie corrected, wrapping a blanket around herself. "We wouldn't be here if not for my delightfully stubborn children."

Neither young man seemed deterred by their mother's harsh tone.

"I'll be honest with you," Nelson piped up, "I'd be long gone if Clyde would just let me."

"I told you that you didn't have to stay!"

"Yeah, well, you're staying, aren't you?" He returned. "So that means I'm stuck here too."

"Can I just –" Ash began, holding up his palms. "Let me get this straight. Nelson, you worked for Galactic, right? And Clyde, you're…"

"Anti-Galactic."

"And you're brothers?" He raised an eyebrow. "Twins?"

They nodded in exact time. Ash's head hurt.

"Clyde worked for Galactic at a time as well," James piped up. "Against his better judgment."

"Are you here for an autobiography or would you like to get to the point?" Jessie interrupted. "If you want to know if we're willing to help, no, but I guess since we're here we might as well. What do you want us to do, anyway? I'm not about to lay down my life for your insane cause."

"I was just making sure you're on board," he confirmed innocently. "You're all free to leave tonight if you don't want to get any further involved –"

"Of course we're free to leave," Jessie growled, "you think we don't know that? Trust me, if I can beat it past my sons' thick skulls, we'll be gone by morning. It's dangerous enough hanging around you."

Ash narrowed his eyes.

"How is hanging around _me _endangering _you?" _He asked incredulously. "It's Galactic that's the problem. Besides, you two gave me more trouble than I've ever given anyone."

James scoffed.

"You've been more trouble than you've ever been worth," he droned. Ash was confused, and growing more annoyed by the moment.

"Put it this way, kid," Jessie finished off. "It's not good for any former Rocket to get too chummy with you. The Boss may be behind bars, but there is word of mouth, and if he wants someone back on his service, I wouldn't doubt that he would manage it."

Ash rolled his eyes and decided that it was probably best to take his leave. He didn't understand how he was somehow this great burden on the Rocket family, but he didn't have time to worry about it. It was obvious that Jessie felt no camaraderie towards the cause, despite the fact that Galactic had held her prisoner, and it was likely that James felt the same way. However, it was Clyde keeping them there, and loyalty to his twin that kept Nelson by his side. That had to mean something – it had to show some sort of good in the family, at least towards each other.

As for the twin brothers, Ash was still puzzled and intrigued at how they seemed to disagree so little and yet have such drastically different opinions. Never once had he heard them fight over anything Team Galactic related, and they stood on different sides of the same war. Or at least, Nelson had stood with Galactic previously, and yet when they had been introduced on the shores of Iron Island, still the pair had not fought. Meanwhile, there were brothers like Brock and Forrest, who would fight passionately over something as small as what to cook for lunch. He wondered if Nelson and Clyde had always been this way, or if it had taken time to reach a treaty between the two.

Ash chose not to think about it further. Instead, he followed suit of his group members and retired to Gary's tent, the man having finally abandoned May's and erected his own. He slid beneath the blankets and did not hesitate to settle closely to the only other in the tent. Umbreon was on Gary's other side, having drifted into a slumber with Pikachu napping on her back. The pair had traveled the entire day that way, with Pikachu riding along Umbreon's spine as the dark-type navigated the snow, vocalizing away at one another as if they were having extremely meaningful conversations.

Long after the pair of humans had drifted off, Umbreon awoke. She blinked her red eyes in the dark, and then the rings in her fur began to glow. With a shake of her spine, she woke Pikachu, who sparked with annoyance and then paused, perking his ears as well. The two pokemon exchanged a glance, and the electric-type took a few hops from the other's back and towards the zipped tent opening. He sniffed it, and then took his tiny teeth to the tarp and began to chew. Umbreon whined and shooed him away, rings still pulsating light. They chattered back and forth, exchanging unknowable information, and then came the first otherworldly cry.

The sound abruptly woke every living being on Mt. Coronet, let alone in their modest camp. Gary and Ash jolted awake so suddenly that the dark-haired trainer's arm swept up and smacked the other in the nose. Umbreon startled so badly that for a split second her rings illuminated the entire tent as clearly as light bulbs, combined with the spark that Pikachu discharged before scurrying into Ash's lap very uncharacteristically.

"What the_ hell_ was that?" Gary panted. There was a moment of deafening silence. Both men stared into the darkness anxiously. Umbreon kept her belly flat against the ground, ears pinned back. Both she and Pikachu stared into the exact same direction, as if they could see the unknown threat straight through the tarp.

Then it was like they had entered a whirlwind. Suddenly the tent was gone and in tatters, and Gary was face down in the snow. He heaved in a breath of air, but had no time to process what had happened, as Umbreon appeared and locked her jaws around his sleeve, desperately trying to drag him along. He climbed to his feet and began to run blindly through the darkness of a Mt. Coronet night as another howl sounded around him – something like grating metal, screaming wind and bellowing roars all wrapped into a single sound. It shook the very ground he covered, and he spared a look over his shoulder only to see an impossibly large shadowy blur of navy and silver engulf what had been their camp. In its wake the force left smoldering destruction. All that he had gotten was a glimpse, but that alone compelled him to double his speed, terror fueling his escape. He and Umbreon booked through the woods until with a start the two tumbled into a ditch, where Gary quickly wrapped his arms around his starter and shielded her against the ground. The sound of another shriek was punctured by human screams and the splitting of tree roots. It seemed that every tree in the woods had been uprooted simultaneously, though in truth the process had simply happened too quickly for any brain to process. Something crashed onto his back, though it did not hurt nearly as much as it frightened him, and then there were rapid thuds as trunks smacked against the ground, each other, and anything in their way in succession. Several smacked across the length of the ditch, just barely landing above those inside, sending them into total darkness.

Silence. Gary was shaking, which he had not noticed prior.

"G-Gary," a voice hardly breathed above him. He was too afraid to verbalize a reply, and so he just barely moved his hand and squeezed that of the person above him, whose voice he recognized to be Ash Ketchum. Adrenaline was still coursing through his body, not allowing him to relax. He didn't feel the cold, nor the discomfort of his position. He felt only blinding fear unlike any that he had ever experienced before. It was on an instinctual level - the pokemon had felt it, the humans had felt it. All living beings equally feared the monster now among them, though those of higher intelligence desperately attempted to comprehend what it was and why.

All who could flee did, and all who could not hid. Those who could do neither well enough perished as Dialga ravaged the base of Mt. Coronet.


	38. Darkest Night

This chapter might be a bit brutal to some, but you know...that's the nature of things.

**Disclaimer: I don't own Pokemon.**

* * *

What was left of the group's camp was wreckage. Smoke billowed into the air, supplies were scattered and smashed about. The woods were dark and quiet without a sound, and the horrifying presence that had destroyed their camp was nowhere to be seen or heard – for the moment.

"I should have never been involved with Galactic," under a sheet of thick tarp, a man was flat on his back against the ground. He gripped the grass beneath the snow fearfully, eyes screwed shut. His twin mirrored his actions, and in the middle of them, a woman stared with wide open eyes into the tarp, as if she would eventually be able to see through it. Her chest rose and fell immensely with each nervous breath.

It made Clyde anxious to hear his brother sound so remorseful, even as quiet as he was speaking.

"I n-never should have gotten caught up in all of this."

"Stop it," their mother reprimanded in a hushed tone between them. "You had no way of knowing how things would turn out."

Clyde did not like how they were speaking. As if this was their final moment.

"No one ever does," she added as an afterthought.

"Dad told me not to, he tried to warn me. Then I dragged _you_ into it –"

"Shut up," Clyde cut him off. His throat tightened. "You didn't drag me. I could have turned it down."

"But you didn't because of me. Now we don't even know where Dad is, or Persian."

"Can it, both of you," the redhead snapped quietly. Her face for once did not agree with her commanding tone. "No, Nelson, you shouldn't have gone into Galactic. You should have listened to your brother and father. But you didn't – because you listened to me. I am tired of hearing you blame yourself when only I can be blamed for that."

She paused. Could Clyde have seen his brother without looking his mother's way, he would have glanced at him for reassurance. Had he heard correctly? Their mother, taking the blame for something that they – or at least Nelson – had been willing to? It was unheard of. As far back as Clyde could remember, his mother had drilled that message into their minds – that she was their mother and above all people she was not to be blamed for any of their foolish choices. Their room was a mess after men in black uniforms had swept through it? It was still their room, and they had better start fixing it up. They were behind on their homework? It wasn't because she had signed them up for too many extra responsibilities, it was because they weren't multitasking well enough. Nothing was ever his mother's fault, and if they cried that it wasn't fair, she would tell them like it was.

_"Life wasn't fair before you, it isn't fair for you, and it won't be fair after you."_

"You should have stuck to your gut," she suddenly continued, now addressing Clyde. He felt like a little boy again. "You shouldn't have joined either, and it was so obvious how you hated it. You turned back eventually, yes, but some things are hard to outrun."

The words echoed a memory of his father telling him the same thing. That seemed so long ago now.

"But that was my fault again," she admitted once more, "because you did it to impress me and keep up with your brother."

Clyde felt embarrassment at how true that was, despite their dire circumstances.

"How did you know?"

"I'm your mother," she snorted, like the question was unfounded and ridiculous. "You are open books to me."

A shadow fell through the tarp cast over them, and all three fell silent and still. At the same moment the twins closed their eyes again. Jessie held her breath, not budging an inch save for the squeeze she gave either of her son's hands.

Then it passed. Somehow, nothing had befallen them.

"Boys," she exhaled, and spoke in such a hushed tone that they had to strain to hear her. "Listen carefully, because I am not going to repeat myself. I love you both more than I can possibly explain, and you have each made me proud in your own ways. Now, you will never try to impress me again – or I will have your heads, faster than whatever shit you'll have dragged this family into does. Have I made myself clear?"

"Yes, ma'am," came unison whispers. Then Clyde added something sheepishly.

"We love you too, Mom."

"After all that I have done for you both, you had better," came the harsh and more familiar reply. The twins, despite everything, mirrored faint smiles.

* * *

The carcass of an enormous dragonite lay motionless in the snow. Its eyes were rolled back in its skull, and its jaws frozen in an eternal snarl. Under one leathery wing, its master was concealed, pressed up against the belly scales of his once loyal and fearsome beast. A trail of clear liquid dripped down his cheeks, and his chest heaved with every breath, but he did not make so much as a whimper. On either side of him, Johto's Champion and Goldenrod City's gym leader cowered.

"L-Lance," Karen could barely be heard and her voice shook badly. "L-Lance. The wing isn't enough."

"It has to be," he countered quietly, "it has to be."

"It will come back," Karen was shaking her head, "it will be back, and it will f-find us –"

Lance was shaking his as well in adamant disagreement. Soundlessly, Whitney removed a knife from her pocket and popped the blade into view.

"Lance," the older woman held out her hand to pull the man over to her. He stared at it before closing his eyes and taking it, allowing her to pull him in close enough to whisper more rapidly.

"Lance," she repeated his name again, as though a broken record, as though if she said it enough, she could get him to agree to anything. She looked straight into his face, but he kept his eyes closed. Behind him, he could hear the sound of splitting rubbery skin. "He's gone now. H-he's done his time in this hell."

Lance didn't answer. He felt ill. Fear still coursed through him with sickening force. He could still see the blur of the monster and hear the final cry of his dragonite. He had never felt so small.

"What was it," he demanded quietly.

"Dialga," Whitney replied in a barely audible tone from behind them.

"We can't prove that," Karen denied. Lance was done with skepticism, with the keeping of calm. There was no doubt in his mind that this was a legend come alive.

"Distract me," he commanded, though it came out as more of a shaky plea. He could hear the sound of sloshing insides. The smell reached his nose and he gagged.

"Do you know w-why I cut off my allegiances with Team Galactic?" The other Champion began. Her entire body was still shaking - he could feel it as he gripped her hand tighter. He was not aware of it, but he was too.

"Because you are not a fool?" He guessed bitterly. "As I was."

"Oh no," she went on in hushed tones, "I was a fool, Lance. More so than you have ever been."

There was a sound outside. All three paused and held their breath. Two minutes later, nothing had happened, and Karen grew bold enough to continue.

"I have a daughter," she began again. "As I am sure you remember. Beautiful, bright, talented. She was engaged to this man. Horribly jealous man, specialized in b-both fire and water-types. Had a dual-degree in both subjects from one of the most prestigious universities in Johto, and a big head because of it."

Lance was too shell-shocked by all that had occurred to do anything but hear as she carried on.

"But his temper…you'd think he was a nice man. I did, too, at first. He seemed so sweet. She would tell me that he would change out of n-nowhere. One day, he had her burned. Her arms and hands, completely scarred. He wanted so badly that she never b-become a better trainer than he was. He fled the nation, and I have yet to find him."

"What was his name?" Lance asked mostly to distract himself from the sounds behind him of Whitney tearing apart the body. He did not particularly comprehend any of what Karen was saying, but tried to allow it to consume his attention.

"Ben," she hissed lowly, "I assume he fled to his native nation of Hoenn, but I have had little luck in g-getting the League there to cooperate with me. My daughter was so distraught that she gave up training and locked herself away. She couldn't eat or sleep or look herself in the mirror, all over her terrible memories.

Cyrus came to me and told me that he had something that could clear my daughter's head of these terrible thoughts. I thought that if she could not remember what had happened that day, she would be able to live again, instead of merely survive. But she forgot everything – how to speak, her name, me. I have to raise her all over again, and it is all because I trusted Cyrus…"

It was clear to him that Karen was holding herself together by string.

"Do you have children, Lance?" Karen asked shakily, most likely only to distract from the pain she was so clearly feeling.

"No," he answered, ignoring that if he did, she would have most likely already have been aware. They had served in their respective Leagues long enough for something like that to be known. To distract her further, he offered an alternative. "A godson. My cousin's son, Eric."

At that moment though, Whitney grasped them both lightly by the wrists and caused them to jump.

"It's done," she murmured grimly. "We have to hide."

The gym leader had carved a hole into his dragonite's hide and emptied the contents of his rib cage. He closed his eyes again, unwilling to accept what he was being asked to do.

"I can't."

Karen could, apparently, as she climbed inside while holding her shirt over her nose and mouth. The scene revolted him.

"Come on," Whitney encouraged. "Please. It's the safest thing."

"No," he insisted. "I won't."

"Lance, we need to hide, this wing is not cutting it, it's practically transparent," she insisted. "I have to think of those poor children and getting them back to Goldenrod, and I need to be alive to escape with them. So get in."

"This is my dragonite," he balled his hands into fists. "And you honestly think those two strays survived? I won't hide in the body of my –"

The otherworldly scream came again. With unpredictable speed, Lance vanished inside the body cavity. He crashed into Karen, who fell against rib bones and sloshed in fluid and blood. Outside, Whitney had disappeared. The snow was red where she had stood.

* * *

Under a menagerie of fallen trees, four bodies huddled soundlessly. Two smaller forms were sniffling quietly, one with a woman's hand gripped over his mouth to keep him from wailing. The brunette woman of the group was shaking slightly, not likely out of cold.

"We can't stay here," one man whispered. Soot concealed the freckles normally visible on his face.

"What do you mean," a redheaded woman answered lingeringly, less of a question than a fearful statement. She had the two children among them pressed up against her either side, where they gripped the fabric of her shirt beneath her coat. The girl had her face hidden in the crook of her side, and the boy watched the sky with wide and teary auburn eyes.

"We can't hide," Forrest reiterated more sternly. "It'll find us. It's out there."

"We can't go anywhere," countered his younger brother beside him. "It'll know and –"

"It knows where we are now. This is just a game. It won't leave until we're dead or gone."

"I don't wanna be d-dead," the boy mumbled through Misty's hand, shuddering as he began to cry again. Cerulean City's gym leader pulled him closer and hushed him.

"You won't be dead so long as you stay by me," she murmured, "and stay quiet."

"Forrest –" Salvador was then interrupted.

"I'm going. I'm going to get us help. We can't stay."

"There is no help," Misty hissed bitterly, "we –"

"It's a g-god," May stammered, face pale as the snow. "There is n-no help."

"We can't hide without food and water," Forrest wagered. "I'll bring that back. I can –"

"From where, Forrest?" Salvador challenged. "Snow will do for water. Food, we –"

"May," Misty cut in quietly, "you should let Blaziken out to warm up you and the kids. You're shaking pretty badly."

"No," the reply was swift and teary as she shook her head firmly. "So that it can k-kill him? No, not Blaziken. I'm n-not cold."

"Take my jacket, then," Forrest stripped of his quickly and within a single moment, he had vanished from the fallen tree shelter. His brother dove for his ankles, but the elder of the two was already striding out into the snow. Salvador chanted a steady stream of whispered cries and Misty froze, hugging the children ever closer and tucking their faces beneath her jacket. May clamped a hand over her mouth.

The man made it several yards before he paused, as if hearing something that they did not. His body was tense, and his senses alert. Then, the sound of grating metal and terrible shrieking, and he had vanished from his place.

_"Forrest!"_ Salvador cried before he could be stopped. May screamed and fell back against a trunk, eyes glued to where Forrest was not. Misty made not a sound, but jumped badly and the two children pressed against her began to cry again. Misty's muscles tensed, poised to wrestle Salvador to the ground if need be, but the young man hardly budged from where he lay in the snow, mouth agape, waiting for his brother to reappear. Seconds passed, and the sound of Dialga's rampage ceased again, and yet May's shrieks did not. A giant shadow fell over their hideaway. Panicking, Misty reached out and slapped the brunette as hard as she could manage. The result was silence, and the shadow passed over them.

"We h-have to go," May was sobbing with her hand clamped over her own mouth, the other gripping the fabric at her chest. "W-we're going to d-die here."

She tried to crawl forward, but Misty flung herself on top of the other woman and pinned her there. The children tore at her with small hands, trying to keep their grip, and Barry wailed.

"Don't leave, Misty!"

The redhead silenced them, and reassured that she would not leave one gripped either thigh as she kept a firm hold on May against the ground. Salvador was still sprawled out on his stomach where he had dove to catch his brother, head now buried in his arms, shoulders wracking with every sob.

* * *

The elderly man was lying face up in the snow. His breaths were audible, each one raspy and hoarse. A large branch lay across his chest. He was too weak to move it, and at that point did not feel compelled to anyway.

He did not feel fear when frantic footsteps came blundering in his direction. He knew that if this were the end for him then that would be it. There was no point in fearing something that would come for everyone eventually.

But it was nothing that he had to fear that came through the bushes. Jupiter halted in her place when she spotted the old man lying on the ground, a mixture of panic and worry written on her features.

"Jupiter," he coughed lightly. "I am glad to see you."

She didn't respond, rushing over and falling to her knees in the snow next to him.

"I have to move this thing," she stared at the branch in hasty nervousness. "How long have you been here? Are you alright?"

"Since Dialga first came," he managed a half-grin at her. "Don't worry too much about me, dear. Please, save yourself the trouble."

"Old fool," Jupiter scowled and stood, getting a grip on the branch with both hands before pulling it carefully from his chest. He breathed deep, oxygen coming easier now. He chose not to tell her, but he still felt crushed, as if the damage were far deeper.

"You should hide," he informed her, but she ignored him, beginning to toss leafs and twigs in his direction.

"I am," she answered quietly back. "Once I cover you."

He did not protest. Once the woman felt that he was sufficient camouflaged, even having dragged some fallen trunks double and triple her size with all of her effort over to conceal them, she came and laid beside him in the snow.

"You shouldn't stay here, my dear," he chuckled, but it pained him to do so, and he broke into coughs.

"How are you feeling?" She ignored him again. Her skin looked clammy and pale.

"Fine," he smiled as he lied. "Have you seen anyone else?"

She shook her head. Her eyes were darting all around, as if she were looking for more things to occupy herself with. He reached out and gripped her hand, which caught her attention.

"Movement might attract danger," he warned. "You would serve me best by hiding yourself."

Reluctantly she settled into the cheap shelter she had constructed. He focused on inhaling and exhaling, which was taking all of the energy he had left.

"I don't believe I am going to make it to the top of Mt. Coronet, Jupiter."

"What?" She sat up with alarm. "What do you mean?"

"Just what I said. I am an old man," he did not feel any anxiousness. "I was never fit for this journey anyway. It is for the younger generation to see through."

"No," she denied. "You're going to make it. I'll see to that."

"No," he countered. "Do not make me your responsibility, Jupiter. That is never a wise choice when someone has already decided their fate for themselves. You can't change how this will unfold, my dear – no one can. But you can do something for me."

"What?" She asked. She expected something constructive, some task she could complete.

"Tell me a story," he closed his eyes. "I would find it very relaxing."

She swallowed so thickly it could be seen traveling down her throat and blinked rapidly like she could whisk away the situation unfolding before her. But she relented, settling back into their hiding place, staring up into the sky rather than look to the left where the old man was battling for breaths.

"You did tell me that you hoped one day I would tell you how I got here."

He smiled faintly.

"That would be a treat," he chuckled, but again it dissolved into coughs. She cringed.

"I grew up with my grandmother," she began slowly and awkwardly. "My parents were…deemed unfit, by the courts."

He did not comment, not verbally or by any physical reaction. She paused and when he did not fill it, she carried on.

"I was never told quite why," she took a breath, "so at sixteen I decided that I would find them myself. My grandmother wouldn't tell me where, though, and so I had to find the address on my own."

"Always resourceful," Oak chuckled. It was a surprising reaction for Jupiter.

"It was basic research," she downplayed. "I had their first names, and so from there I found their hometowns. I hitchhiked from my grandmother's house to my father's hometown to start. I had no pokemon, because we had very little money."

"And you were not afraid?" He asked gently. "To be traveling alone without any pokemon at your side."

"Oh, no," she chuckled briefly and quietly. "I was afraid. But when I arrived, I found my father's mother – my other grandmother, who I had never met – with relative ease. She had no idea who I was, and I pretended to be from a package delivery service looking for her son. She told me where he lived, just across town.

I crawled in an open window of the house and found it was an absolute trash heap. I was doing so well, slipping around unseen and looking for signs of anyone inside when I slipped on a beer can. A man ran in the room – this ugly, fat thing. I had no memory of him and he did not recognize me, and so he chased me out, putting out his cigar on my arm. I hiked the entire way back home, certain that I would never make the mistake of running away like that again. I had no idea if that man was truly my father or not – wishfully thinking, I'd imagine that I had somehow mistaken the addresses and entered some other dirty drunk's home. But that wasn't true.

My grandmother forgave me, so she said, but she was furious with me for running off. I was only home for a night before the very same man broke into our house. He must have followed me back."

She was now so engrossed in her own retelling that she had distracted even herself from the prospect that they were both in grave danger. She could hear her grandmother's voice in her head.

_"I always knew you'd be the death of me, you dirty old drunk. But better me than her."_

"He started demanding money, but when he recognized my grandmother he realized exactly who I was. He started threatening us both, and when my grandmother wouldn't let him past her, he shoved her. She just…"

She trailed off for a moment. Her face looked extremely troubled. Oak did not press on for more of the story, merely waiting patiently for her to continue.

"Died. I ran of course. I wasn't going to let that oaf lay hands on me and I wasn't yet strong or skilled enough to do anything about what he had done. But it was so obvious that she was dead, even though at that point I had never seen anyone die before. She hit the dresser with her back – she always had a poor back – and her head snapped backwards, and then she just…broke to the floor. It sounds ridiculous, especially having seen so much death since then. But I remember panicking when I saw it, thinking about how broken she looked. Her eyes were still open, and they looked so empty."

She paused and blinked, and mentally Jupiter suddenly worried that she sounded like a fool.

"Never mind that," she shook her head lightly. "The next four years were unimportant. To the story, that is, because on the whole they were vital. I learned gunmanship, and became a con-woman. I worked in many places but never particularly lived anywhere. I didn't own anything but the clothing I wore and a steadily growing bank account."

"Why did you never settle down?" Oak decided to inquire. "Surely in all your travels, you saw places that you would have liked to stay."

"Of course," she agreed. "But at that age, I was much more interested in the many rich saps that I could fool than the view from their suites. At one point I was approached by a man who toted me around for a few days – I kept waiting for the chance to rob him of everything he had, but then he surprised me. He pulled me aside and told me that he knew that I was going to try to con him, and that I should consider a more legal line of work under him. I was unconvinced at first, but after being given the grand tour I decided that the money I had managed to steal thus far would suffice and that I could try my hand at this."

"And that man was…"

"Cyrus," she smirked halfheartedly. "So the story begins. It took me a few years to scale the ranks and become an administrator, but I was still among the fastest ranking Galactics. It was all petty politics, Oak. You didn't have to be particularly good, so long as you could make everyone around you look bad."

"And so you excelled," he grinned. He was gripping his chest with one hand, but discreetly, so that Jupiter might not notice.

"Yes. I ousted the man who used to hold my position – rather, my former position – and in the fiasco the field administrator was also fired. All the allegations were false, of course. I planted the rumors myself. But they worked, and I became the new intelligence administrator. But that left an open spot in the field position, and so Cyrus began looking for someone to fill it." She smirked and rolled her eyes. "Enter, Mars."

"Ah," he chuckled, "so she was promoted."

"No," Jupiter huffed, "in fact, not. She was hired. Mars was never a grunt, or anything else. She has always been an administrator. I am not sure that anyone else in Galactic's history has ever entered the job as an administrator. According to Cyrus, she was_ 'highly qualified'."_

"You sound a bit bothered by this."

"No," she scowled quietly, and then retracted that statement. "Oh, alright, perhaps a bit. She was not 'highly-qualified' but instead highly_ unstable,_ and Cyrus would praise her for those hotheaded qualities. It would annoy me, how myself and any other admin would be chastised for pulling the stunts that Mars could get away with, but now it makes sense to me. Cyrus was grooming us all along, praising us for the qualities that the world frowned upon to create a sense of purpose for us. The world does not exactly celebrate con-men, and so Cyrus plucked me from the streets and gave me a position where I could use my talents and be respected for them."

"So you think that he fully intended all of this from the start," Oak rasped. "You were nothing more than impressionable young adults for him to use."

"I don't know if he always intended all of this," she confessed, "but I have no doubt that he always intended to take advantage of his most promising followers in some way."

The pair fell silent as something stirred in the woods nearby. Story finished, the tightness within Jupiter's chest returned with the knowledge that they were still in very real danger.

* * *

Beneath several fallen trees in the silent, dark forest was a ditch. It was not much of one, but enough for two men and the pokemon accompanying them to make use of it. Branches and leaves concealed them well enough. The taller of the two lie on his back, hunched against the curve of the dirt, looking like he wished that he could sink into it. The other lay across his stomach, resting his head on the man's chest as his hat was pressed flat by the trunk of a fallen tree. Nestled in the crook of the brunette's arm was an umbreon, pulsating brightly beneath the coat which her trainer had covered her in to conceal it. Against his other side there was a persian with fur standing on end, reaching almost the entire length of his body, having appeared shortly after Ash Ketchum scrambling for cover. Finally, a small yellow rodent was buried into Umbreon's free flank. He was silent and expressionless apart from the near constant twitching of his ears and nose.

"We're not going to die out here," Ash whispered fearfully. Gary wondered who he was trying to convince. Frost fell into the air as he spoke, and his hands were shaking as he clung to Gary's shirt. The brunette said nothing at all, his face as white as the falling snow apart from streaks of soil across his skin. He felt frozen – not cold – but stuck to that spot, as though the rest of the world would never be a safe place again. Like one inch of movement, one whisper too loud, would send them spiraling back into the hell that they were hiding from.

Then came a metallic scream. The familiar sound made Gary's blood run cold and all five of them felt one another's muscles tense.

The phrase 'a split second' is a common one. It implies that the event occurring next took less than one second to unfold, and in many cases it is an exaggeration. Merely, the event felt to those experiencing it that it happened so quickly when really there was nothing remarkable about the speed. But the time in which Dialga had torn Ash Ketchum from the ditch and strewn him across the snowy grass several dozen yards away was in fact a fraction of a second. So quick it was that by the time Gary's reflexes had closed his hands into gripping fists, the man against his chest was long missing. Perhaps to the God of Time, the simple action had taken days of thought and preparation, executed so flawlessly because in that split moment the creature had lived years. How did time appear to the one who governed its flow?

Gary screamed with horror that exists only in the very heart of one's chest. He scrambled free of the ditch, soot digging beneath his fingernails as he clawed his way out from beneath the trees. He passed Ash's hat, upturned in the snow. He raced by a lost shoe.

The man's senses were alight and the world existed in slowed time. His feet did not move as quickly as he felt that he was pushing them to. Each breath he could hear as if the world were dead silent. In the approaching distance, Ash Ketchum unsteadily raised his head.

"Ash," he finally reached him, falling to his knees in the snow. His heart was racing, chest heaving. Ash Ketchum looked up at him and blinked his dark eyes. He looked around like he had never seen before.

"Where's Pikachu?" He mumbled, like he wasn't aware of what had just happened, then looked around and must have spotted the rodent, though Gary could not be sure as he could not look anywhere but at the other man. His expression changed instantly from eerily calm to panicked. "Don't fight, Pikachu, _run!"_

The other trainer's face was the last thing that Gary saw, because something hot and jolting coursed through them both before each man fell motionless into the snow.


End file.
